


Xmen: Almost Apocalypse

by Butterynutjob



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Extension, Children die in this, F/M, M/M, Nightcrawler is a twink, Post DoFP, emotional angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-07 13:46:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1901277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterynutjob/pseuds/Butterynutjob
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All-but-omnipotent bad guy Apocalypse is awakened after a thousand years craving pancakes and world domination. After Apocalypse destroys nearly everything Charles Xavier holds dear in one afternoon, Charles must decide how far he is willing to compromise his ideals to save the world and protect the people he cares about the most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for children killed

Ourtside Lviv, Ukraine, July 7th, 1964

A woman with a blue, scaled face stood with a bundle in a dull gray cloak while she waited for the caravan barely visible in the distance. She looked anxiously at the horizon, where dark, pendulous clouds were gathering. The bundle in her arms made a mewling noise, and she carefully tucked in a blue pointed tail which had worked its way out (again). She gazed down with great sadness at the tiny mutant, and kissed him on the forehead as the first vehicle of the caravan pulled up to her. She quickly flipped to her blonde persona as the first vehicle of the caravan pulled up.

"Hello," she said in heavily accented Russian, as an older woman walked toward her with a smile. "Olga?" The woman nodded, still smiling. Mystique took a deep breath and began to recite the speech she had memorized in the language that was so foreign to her tongue. "Olga, thank you for taking my son-" unbidden, her throat clenched and she was unable to continue. With a choked cry, she shoved the tiny bundle into Olga's arms. 

Olga gently passed the blue child to another woman behind her and turned to give Mystique a warm hug. "This is what our cousin Azazel would have wanted," she breathed in English to Mystique. "Your Kurt will fit in here." Mystique pulled back and looked into Olga's eyes, seeing a swirling kaleidoscope in each eye instead of the usual irises. Mystique nodded curtly and turned her head away, wiping her nose on her sleeve. With one last longing look at her child, she resolutely turned and walks away from the setting sun, towards the east. The caravan packed up again with their new addition, headed the opposite direction from Mystique.

***********  
Outside of Sugarcreek, Ohio, February 2, 1983

A man sat up in a field. 

He appeared to be a nondescript, blond man in his late 30's, not bad-looking, but someone who would be easily overlooked and probably dismissed as unthreatening. He was wearing brown slacks and a beige corduroy jacket. The man brushed some leaves off his shoulders as he rose to his feet, frowning ever so slightly and looking around. He spotted a structure in the distance and seemed to perk up a bit as he headed towards it.

The man arrived in the store of a small service station, still several miles on the outskirts of town, a place with high gasoline prices designed to gouge people who just couldn't make it the extra five miles to Sugarcreek. A tired-looking woman, in about her mid-fifties, eyed him warily as he walks in. 

"Ah, hello," he said to her briskly, with a tight smile. "Would you be so kind as to direct me to the nearest mutants?" His tone was cordial, with the faintest backbone of sarcasm in it.

The store clerk looked at him for a moment. A small color television behind her was silently broadcasting President Ronald Reagan giving a speech. 

"The nearest what?" She said, finally.

The man appeared slightly impatient. "Mutants, freaks, people who look strange to your bucolic eye, people with unexplainable abilities." His mouth was pursed now. 

The woman blinked at him. "What did you say about my eye?"

He sighed. "You really had to waste my time, didn't you," he said and suddenly her eyes were wide and she was not breathing, pawing at an unseen hand holding her up by the throat. The man continued, calmly. "I can see in your mind that you know what I am talking about. As soon as I said 'mutant' someone popped into your mind. I'm going to release you and give you a chance to tell me, with your words, where that mutant is. If you don't, I will just take it from your mind, but I may use a machete instead of a scalpel." He clears his throat. "Metaphorically."

The woman's face hit the store counter as the unseen force released her. A trickle of blood was dripping down from her forehead as she looked up. "The Johnson boy," she gasped. "He made electricity - do things. And sometimes he wouldn't - touch the ground when he walked." She shuddered. "But he got sent away last year. Some fancy school in New York."

"See, was that so hard?" He smiled a smile that didn't reach his eyes and tapped her twice on the cheek, not especially gently. He started to leave the store and a faint frown crossed his features and he turned around again. "Which way is New York?"

The woman looked confused and pointed with her arm, uncertainly. The man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "Useless," he muttered to himself. "Well, so much for subtlety." He addressed to woman again. "I can see in your mind that my destination is due east of here, but clearly you are too stupid to communicate with me in an effective manner, so...well, might as well start drawing attention to myself now." He takes a deep breath and blows out a stream of fire that devours the woman. As she screams, dying in horrible agony, he calmly goes to select a soda out of the refrigeration case and a candy bar. He cheerfully waves good-bye as he leaves the store. 

He walks a little ways away from the store, which explodes into flames behind him as the fire inside reaches the gasoline tanks. He barely takes notice as he is struggling to open both his soda and candy bar. He appears very pleased when he has accomplished both tasks, and looking up in the morning sky to get his bearings, he starts walking for a few feet and then frowns, levitates and starts flying in the direction of the rising sun. 

***********************

Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, Westchester, New York, the same day.

 

"Rav-" Charles stopped himself. "Mystique! How wonderful to see you. What's it been, six months? Please, come in!" Charles is wheel-chair bound, wearing a Cosby sweater, hair and goatee neatly trimmed. He has more gray in his hair and beard than he used to, but still looks a bit younger than his late forties. 

Mystique, blue and scaly but wearing a dress for once, enters the Xavier mansion with a smile and sets down a large bag so she can lean down to hug Charles in his wheelchair. "Hello Charles! It is good to see you." She straightens and sees Hank standing nearby. "Hi, Hank," she says, deliberately.

In his mid-thirties now, Hank has filled out but is still somewhat shy and doesn't seem to feel comfortable in his own skin "Hi - you," he stammers, caught between wanting to call her Raven (which would make him comfortable) and Mystique (which would make her comfortable), and settling on neither.

Mystique looked at Hank, and then back to Charles. "Fine, you can both call me Raven," she said, exasperated. "But I'm not changing my form."

"Thank you for settling that, my dear sister," Charles said with a warm smile. Hank seemed to relax a bit too. "Please, come join me in my study so we can catch up. I have a few hours yet before we have to get ready for our school field trip. Would you like some tea, or coffee?"

Raven started to pick up her bag but Hank rushed to get it. "I'll get that," he said, coming nose to nose with her and catching his breath. "I - I - hope this means you might be staying for a while?"

Charles shot Hank a look. _Please, Hank_ Charles said in Hank's mind, _Let me discuss that with Raven in my own time._

"I'd love some coffee," Raven said, smiling at Hank. "And thanks for getting my bag, Hank. I'd appreciate if you could take it to my old room - I actually do hope to stay for a few days, if that's all right, Charles?"

Charles looked very pleased and said softly, "You are always welcome here, Raven."

"Great!" Hank said, a little too enthusiastically. "I'll be right back with your coffee." He left.

As Raven and Charles walk to his study, children's laughter is heard. "How is the school going?" Raven asked, brightly.

"As well as can be," Charles replied to his sister with a smile. "We have thirteen students now." 

"That's, well, that's -" Raven had been planning a positive response but decided on honesty. "That doesn't seem like that many." 

"Well, not compared to the number I had at full enrollment in 1964," Charles admitted, "But I had enough faculty at that time to support a larger student body. Right now the only teachers here are myself, Hank, and Alex." He was hinting at something that he had discussed with Raven before, and she picked up on that immediately. 

"Charles," Raven sighs. "I know you want me to teach here. But I'm not ready to tie myself down to a committment like that."

"Yes, you do have some trouble with feeling tied down by committments," he murmured.

She abruptly stopped walking and Charles had to wheel himself around to see her. "If you are talking about what I think you are talking about, Charles, that is a low blow," she said dangerously. 

Panic flashed across Charles' face as he realized that he could be rocking the fragile familial foundation he had so carefully re-established with Raven. "I'm- I'm very sorry, Raven. I am not questioning your choices. I just - I would like to meet the boy, someday," he swallowed. 

They arrived at the study and seated themselves inside. "He's not a boy anymore," Raven said softly, to herself as much as to Charles. "He's older than I was when I joined the Mutant Brotherhood."

Charles stiffened as if in shock. "Oh, Raven, don't tell me--"

Raven made eye contact again with him again then, eyes flashing. "Now, if I had allowed Kurt to be recruited into the mutant brotherhood, wouldn't that defeat the whole point of me sending him away to begin with? Erik still doesn't even know he exists."

Charles reacted to the name "Erik" by sharply turning his head away and rolling his eyes toward the ceiling. "Ah. Well, I have to admit I am relieved to hear that. But considering the boy's --ah, young man's--power, it seems that it wouldn't be too difficult for him to visit here."

"No, it wouldn't," Raven agreed, "If he wanted to. But I'm not going to ask him, as he asked me not to visit anymore nine years ago." She looked away from Charles.

Charles sucked in his breath. "I'm so sorry, Raven; I didn't know."

She laughed ruefully. "I really thought you had read it from me."

"I don't read your mind without permission," Charles said softly, resigned, and with a touch of anger. They were recycling so many of their disapointments today.

"They take good care of him," Raven said. "There are a couple other mutants in the troupe, distant relatives of Azazel; they have done better for him than I could have."

Charles nodded in understanding, not really understanding at all, because part of him wanted to say, _why didn't you just come home?_ \-- but, he accepted her decision. He had learned that he can't control her, and he feared she wouldn't keep visiting if he second-guessed everything she did out loud. 

"Ah, coffee for the lady and tea for me, Hank, you are a lovely man," Charles said with delight as  
Hank entered with a tray. "None for you? Are you not joining us?"

"Ah, no, I actually have a student right now," he said with a smile. "I'm tutoring Gabriel about electricity."

"Well, I can think of nobody better for that job," Charles said jovially, and then a shadow crossed his face as he could, in fact, think of someone who might be better for that job. If either Hank or Raven noticed his brief mental digression, they did not mention it.

Hank left with an awkward little wave at Raven and she chuckled. 

Charles turned back to Raven. "So," he said, handing her her coffee, "to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"I just --" Raven busied herself with her coffee. "I just needed a little break." 

Charles noticed, then, the dark circles under her eyes and slumped posture. He was having trouble choosing words to ask her about that when she spoke again.

"I have been working with Erik, a bit," she said, as if it was a confession. "When he agrees not to kill. When mutants are in danger. But it doesn't pay well - at all, really - and although I can get anything I need by changing my shape, I am just too aware that I am stealing most of the time." She closed her eyes, then looked up at Charles with a slight smile. "Stealing never bothered me until I met you, you know."

"You are always welcome here," Charles repeated to her, his heart swelling with love and empathy for his first friend, "I don't expect anything in return - although I hope you feel like teaching someday," he acknowledged. "Or just send me some referrals - I need staff!"

They both laughed.

***********************************************

It is just after noon the same day when Charles finally got all the students into their little school bus. Alex was driving, and Charles sat near the back, where there was a space for his wheelchair. Alex had the loudspeaker. 

"Okay, you guys, this is a special occasion so I expect--Gabriel, get down off the ceiling please--I expect you to be on your best behavior. Remember, don't use your powers when we get to the museum, okay?" 

The children mumbled assent. 

"What was that? I didn't hear you," Alex teased in a sing-song tone.

"OKAY, ALEX," the children screamed with glee. Charles winced a little at the volume but smiled at the chilren nearby. This trip needed to be fun as well as educational, so he was going to try not to be such an old man today. 

They started the drive to Manhattan. For the first thirty minutes of the drive the children were essentially well-behaved, even if a few tiny Ororo-generated storm clouds floated around. Charles debated saying anything to her about this, as he wasn't sure if she was being cheeky or if she wasn't in full control of her power yet. _I could peek into her mind to check which it is_ he mused, and he was just debating doing that when Alex slammed on the brakes.

Himself and most of the children flew forward, with shreiks and cries. "Alex!" Charles yelled.

"Professor, I didn't do that," Alex yelled back, and the children all abruptly got quiet as they realized that something might be very wrong.

 _Inside voice, Alex_ Charles requested telepathically.

 _The bus just stopped on its own. I am stepping on the gas pedal and it's not moving,_ Alex explained mentally. Charles could hear the engine revving, in fact. 

_Erik?_ Charles sent out a message to see if his old friend was in the vicinity and responsible for this, although it wasn't really his style to terrify mutant children. He did not feel Erik's presense, but as he reached mentally out he felt a horrible, inky and terribly powerful evil nearby. Charles' breath caught in his throat.

The front door to the bus opened and a mild-looking blond man stepped inside. "Well hello!" He greeted everyone inside with a pleased smile. "I believe I've been looking for you!" Charles felt his insides roiling. The horrible evil feeling was coming from this unassuming and blandly pleasant man at the front of the bus. 

The man had stepped inside, hands clasped casually behind his back taking a few steps along the aisle of the short bus. He looked at each individual in the bus for a moment, as if assessing them. Nobody said anything to him, everyone just stared with wide eyes. After a moment, he seemed to reach a conclusion. "Two!" he proclaimed, seeming very pleased indeed. "The rest of you are not, well, ripe," as he chuckled to himself, his bland smile was taking on a distinctly unpleasant appearance. "Come along, then," he said as he turned to leave to bus. 

Charles felt a powerful pull in his mind to follow the man, the most intense compulsion he had ever felt. He screamed and threw up every mental defense he had, just managing to avoid the powerful and simple directive pointed at his mind **_FOLLOW._** To his horror, Alex stood up and followed the man outside the bus. Charles did not move, hands on his ears and still screaming his defiance, both mentally and physically. He knew in some part of his mind that the children were terrified and desperately spared a part of his mind to send out a soothing message to them _it will be okay, all is good, it will be over soon_. 

The man was now outside the bus, standing next to the door impatiently. Out the window, Charles could see Alex standing next to him, slack-jawed and glassy-eyed. Charles spared another tendril of consciousness to peek inside Alex's mind and found an echo chamber. Alex was gone.

"Yoo-hoo," the man said, and with a horrific, metallic shearing sound, all of the bus except the part Charles' wheelchair had been sitting on was suddenly gone. Without the support from the rest of the bus, he crashed to the ground and his chair ended up half on top of him. Charles looked around for the children in a panic; he felt them very nearby, but they had never been more terrified. 

The complusion to **_FOLLOW_** pressed at him even more intensely and anger overtook his fear. "NOOOO," he roared, sending a vicious **_DESTROY_** command to the other mind. 

It would have killed a human, but the man in the beige jacket just seemed annoyed. "Fine," he snapped. "Have it your way - you're a cripple anyway. But I'm breaking all your toys." With a sneer, the man gestured up and Charles saw where the rest of the bus and the children had gone-- they were hovering about thirty feet above his head--no, they were rushing down now, too fast, too fast--

The bus slammed down on the ground, hard, and it was only because Charles had somehow gotten himself stuck under the now-mangled heap of his wheelchair that he didn't receive a fatal injury. But something metal did stab him painfully in the side and he received a hefty crack on the back of his head. 

The physical pain was horrible, but as Charles reached out desperately to his students to count them -- _Are you ok? Who is hurt?_ \-- and found only one small terrified mind still alive, his anguish tore through him. A mental scream that dwarfed his previous "destroy" command ripped out of him as he succumbed to unconsciousness.

**************************************

Hank and Raven were just preparing lunch together when they doubled over. Charles. "Something's wrong, really wrong," Raven panted at Hank. He seemed to feel the same thing she did.

***************************************

Erik Lensherr was pretending to be someone he wasn't, wearing a suit and posturing as a business man to gain information that was important to him in a high rise building in Manhattan when he felt Charles' anguished cry. He closed his eyes for a moment and gritted his jaw against the pain of it and snapped his eyes open when it abruptly stopped. 

He smiled tightly at the sweaty man across from him. "Please excuse me," he said, and without thinking much more about it, he turned to the window and ripped out the metal windowframe outwards with his mind, smoothly following it out and letting the frame and windows crash below as he flew onward, heading north. 

Charles' mental cry was not an effective locator beacon, unfortunately, but Erik had the benefit of an excellent sense of direction due to his power. He could tell that Charles was somewhere between Westchester and New York City, so he flew low enough to be able to see anything that might be Charles, not really caring if the humans saw him. Some did; he heard some cries and maybe some crashes, but his instinct thrummed _find Charles_ and Erik usually followed his instincts. 

Finally, he saw something yellow and crumpled below him and his stomach twisted as he realized it was a school bus. He flew down and landed, his shoes crunching in the gravel as he approached the wreckage. He heard sobbing and found a head of white wavy hair was the cause of it. "What happened?" he demanded. He did not see Charles.

The crying girl whipped her head up and Erik saw her eyes go white. Storm clouds surrounded him and he looked warily at her dark face and realized he should try a different approach. 

"My name is Erik," he said, and gently knelt down a few feet away from her. "I'm here to help. Can you tell me what happened?" He quelled his impatience and tried to convey warmth to the child, although that wasn't exactly something he was good at conveying.

The storm clouds dissipated a bit. "Everyb-body - every- everyb-body's dead," She choked out, eyes now welling up with tears. She moved her body to reveal that she was leaning over Charles. Erik's face went pale at seeing his limp and bloody form when the tiniest groan escaped Charles' lips.

"He's not dead," Erik immediately stepped up inspected Charles as closely as he could get, which was several feet away. He could see that Charles had a pulse in his temple and that he was still breathing, but due Charles being buried in the wreckage, Erik was not able to get close enough to determine anything else. He realized he was standing over the girl who had cowered away from his abrupt change in demeanor while he was trying to assess Charles. "How many of there were you?" He said to Ororo, more quietly. 

"Thirteen students, plus Alex and the Professor," she said, breathing raggedly. "But then that man made Alex leave."

Erik filed the last bit of information away for future processing. He carefuly began peeling away the metal of the bus, not able to get to Charles quite yet if it might risk a child's life. As he uncovered the first tiny body, he felt something cold clamping down inside him. Must not react. Must work. But first--

He knelt down to the white-haired girl. She had stopped crying and was staring wide-eyed at the body he had just uncovered. _That's someone she knew_ he realized. He spoke as gently as he could, putting a hand on her shoulder and turning her from the body. "What's your name?" 

"Ororo," she said dully. Then she looked up at him. "I know who you are," she said. "You're Magneto. Did you do this?"

"I would never do this," Erik stated vehemently. He took a deep breath, he mind pulsing _hurry hurry hurry Charles may not have time_ and forced himself to speak slowly and calmly. "Ororo, the Professor is alive but badly injured. Some of your friends may be in the same condition, and I need to move carefully and quickly to save as many lives as possible. Do you understand?"

Ororo nodded, with a tiny ember of hope in her eye.

"I think its best if you don't watch while I do this," he continued. "It's your choice, but please do step back so you don't get hit by flying metal."

She stepped back and lay flat on the ground as Erik continued his excavation. Smart girl, he thought, realizing that she was not as young as he'd first thought - 14 or 15 years old, maybe. 

Another small body was uncovered, also quite obviously dead.

Erik found a internal numbness he had used as a survival technique so many years ago at Auschwitz and kept going. When he finally got to where he could free Charles, and had sifted through all the metal in the bus, he realized there weren't any survivors aside from Ororo and Charles. 

He knelt down by Charles and saw that although the crumpled wheelchair had served as a small structure that prevented him from being completely crushed by the bus, he had a jagged metal piece of bus stabbed into his side and the back of his head was bloody. Erik did not remove the intruding piece of metal from Charles' body - he had _some_ basic medical knowledge - but he did melt off the end sticking out so it was no longer attaching Charles to the bus. He wished he had a way to bandage Charles' head, but knew it was time to go - he heard sirens in the distance. 

Suddenly he realized the problem. He was going to have to carry Charles, and the only way to get him the medical attention he needed fast enough was to fly - but he couldn't abandon Ororo here. 

"We should get him home," he heard her say behind him. Erik turned around to Ororo and saw her floating off the ground, eyes milky. 

His sense of relief was palpable. "You can fly?" he asked. She nodded, but bit her lip. "How long have you been flying?" he asked.

"About six months," she replied. Well, better than nothing.

Erik gathered Charles in his arms. He winced as Charles' bloody head rolled against the crick of his elbow, but there was no help for it. He levitated straight up and looked down to see if Ororo was with him and she was right beside him, closing her eyes tightly against the scene below. He wished he could hold her hand, but his arms were full of Charles, and he was trying not to jostle the projectile still sticking cruelly out of the unconscious man's side.

"Can you hold onto me?" Erik asked Ororo. She nodded shyly and laced her arm through his on the side where Charles' legs dangled over Erik's arm. There. Now he felt more secure that if she wasn't as strong as flyer, at least he would have a chance at not losing her. 

"We're going to go fast," he warned her and she nodded. "Okay, on three - one, two, three!"

*********************************


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles recovers from the accident with help from some surprising places.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any typos! I will do a more thorough proofreading before I post the final chapter if you'd rather wait for that.

January 17, 1983 - Two weeks prior

Logan was standing at a bus stop on a clear but cold day. There was a sign visible behind him that read "Sugarcreek, Ohio, pop. 1911". He was lighting a cigar when a kid with a green mohawk, about 14 years old, wearing a Return of The Jedi shirt over a long-sleeve black T-shirt walked up to the bus stop with a big rucksack. Logan eyed the kid briefly and gave only the slightest grunt of acknowledgement. 

The kid stood nervously a few feet away, casting furtive glances at Logan. He opened his mouth several times to speak before he finally said, "Can I have a light?"

Logan looked at the kid for a moment and the flipped him the lighter, a cheap plastic model. "Aren't you a little young to be smoking," he said, not looking at the kid, not really caring about the response.

"I'm too young to be leaving home, but that's what I'm doing," the kid retorted. He lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply and went into a coughing fit. Logan rolled his eyes and took the cigarette and lighter from the kid. He stepped on the cigarette and pocketed the lighter.

The kid seemed annoyed but empowered. "I know you," he said. "You're the bartender at Sugarcreek Tavern."

"Was," Logan grunted. 

"Where are you going?" Sam asked, squinting up at Logan.

"I'm going where people don't interrogate strangers unless they're enemy combatants." 

"I'm Sam," the young man said after a moment. No response. "I'm going to New York City," he announced, looking for a reaction from Logan. There was none. "Somewhere I won't be called a freak."

The word 'freak' made Logan stiffen. "Maybe you wouldn't be called a freak if you didn't do that shit to your hair," he suggested. 

Sam looked at him, hard. "I don't do anything to my hair," he said quietly. The floppy green mohawk on his head began rising of its own accord as Logan looked at him. Logan raised one fist and slowly unsheathed his metal claws, not threatening, just showing. Sam's eyes got big. "I can also make trees move," he whispered.

"Logan," Logan said, feeling the kid had earned an introduction. "To answer your question, I'm going to Nicaragua," Logan said after a moment. "Haven't seen action since Vietnam, and after four years here, this place is beginning to give me a bad feeling." He looked at Sam. "Sounds like it gives you a bad feeling too." 

"Yeah," Sam said, for a moment all his bravado gone, a forlorn child.

Logan looked at Sam contemplatively for a moment. "Kid, there's someone you should meet. He lives in Westchester, New York, I can't remember exactly where, but if you go there and look for him, I guarantee you will find him. His name is Charles Xavier."

Sam looks skeptical. "Is this a friend of yours?"

"Yeah. Sort of. He will be, I think." Logan seems confused about the answer himself. "He looks out for people like us. He can help."

*********************  
February 2, 1983, Somewhere outside Westchester, New York.

Ororo was crying over him. Charles came to enough to have the dimmest awareness of this before someone else arrived and metal started flying around. With a small groan, he passed out again.

The next time he acheived consciousness, he felt wind flying by his face and thought he must be hallucinating because he saw Erik's distinctive jawline above him. His head and side were in considerable pain. He moaned and tried to move his head and Erik looked down at him. 

"I don't advise it, old friend," Erik said, almost shouting to be heard in the wind, and then there were two Eriks, and both of them were blurry and then the blackness closed in on Charles again...

******************

Hank and Erik are in the infirmary at the mansion, arguing over the best way to treat Charles' injury. "Don't be ridiculous, Hank," Erik snapped. "The piece inside him has jagged edges; I can feel them. Cutting him more is stupid when I can just melt that out of him."

"I don't even know what you are doing here," Hank said angrily, blue fur beginning to sprout from his body. " _Now,_ you care about the professor's safety? After leaving him for dead on the beach in Cuba?"

Hank felt a weak presense in his mind and turned to the professor with alarm. He rushed to Charles' side. "Yes, I hear you," he said quickly. He listened inwardly, flushed a bit and looked up at Erik. Erik's eyebrows were raised in question, and Hank nodded once, curtly, and looked away, the flush creeping up his neck, the overall appearance ending up purple. He looked back at the professor quickly and seemed to get another telepathic message.

"He wants something for the pain before you begin," Hank said, and inserted a syringe into Charles' arm. Hank watched the professor's face (even though it had not changed during his entire exchange with Hank) and then said, "Ok, he's ready."

Erik brushed back his annoyance that Charles had not chosen to communicate with him at all and concentrated on removing the metal, atom by atom, if necessary. He closed his eyes and gently put his hands on Charles' torso on either side of the projecting piece of metal and drop by careful drop, pulled it out of the wound. The metal pooled in the air next to him while he worked, looking for all the world like floating mercury. 

"That's all of it," he announced when finished. He was pleased that Charles had not screamed out in agony at any point, but didn't really know how hurt he was. The wound was bleeding more freely now, and Erik grasped a bandage to cover and put pressure on the blood flow. 

"Are any internal organs punctured?" Hank asked anxiously.

Erik looked at Hank in exasperation. "I'm not a doctor, Hank," he reminded the younger man. 

"Well, can you stop the bleeding - you know - with your power?"

Erik snorted. "I can feel the iron in his blood, but that doesn't mean I can make it congeal."

"Well -" Hank thought a moment. "Can you tell if there is internal bleeding?"

Erik looked at Hank in surprise. "Uh - yes, I think I can." He closed his eyes and reached out with his power to feel the path of Charles' blood in his body. He didn't sense any pools that seemed out of place, and his heart seemed strong. "Seems ok," he said cautiously.

"Wel, I think he also has a concussion, and he definitely needs stiches in the back of his head," Hank said. 

"That, I have some experience with," Erik replied.

************************

The next time Charles woke, it was morning and he was in his own bedroom. Ororo was there too, and she saw his blearily blinking eyes before he saw her. "Professor!" she cried, standing up and running the few steps towards him. 

_Shhh,_ Charles implored mentally. _I have a splitting headache._

 _Sorry, Professor,_ the teenager says in his mind, and he feels her happiness that he is awake and also a profound sadness about - about -

The memory of the incident came back to him in a rush and he cried out. Within moments, Raven, Hank, and Erik had joined Ororo in his room.

"The children," he cried brokenly, "They trusted me to protect them..."

Erik projected a strong but warm tone towards Charles. _My friend, I understand your pain. But we need to know everything you know about the person who did this as soon as possible so we can stop him from doing it again._ Erik was standing next to his bed with Hank and Raven and Ororo. His mental words made sense and so Charles pushed the guilt away for the time being. 

"Apocalypse..." Charles murmured, but putting everything into words required too much concentration at that moment. Instead, he projected all the information he had about the strange, evil man to the other people in his room. _His name is Apocalypse. He is very, very old, many times older than the oldest mutant I know of._ This thought was accompanied by a brief image of Logan. _He has almost unlimited powers, including telepathy and mind control, telekinesis, shape shifting, breathing fire-_ This thought is accompanied by an image of flames rushing toward a female clerk in a store as she screams in fear. Raven put her arm around Ororo, who blanched at the last visual. 

"He may have other powers as well," Charles finished verbally, flicking a guilty glance at Ororo. "Right now, he's looking for four - well, mentally he calls them 'Horsemen'. That's what he took Alex for, and why he tried to take me." Charles looked down at his legs. "I'm not sure if I didn't get taken because I fought him off telepathically, or because he saw that I am, uh, a -" Charles remembered Apocalypse's choice of word, but he decided to say it differently "-uh, he saw that I don't have the use of my legs." 

A muscle clenched in Erik's jaw.

Nobody spoke while they processed the information Charles provided, and he did not have the energy to seek out anyone's reaction. _In fact, all this talking has made me feel quite exhausted_... his thought disintegrated from words into images and then into feelings as Charles allowed himself to drift back into sleep. 

**************

Apocalypse was feeling a little cross after the bus incident. "I should have more Horsemen by now," he complained to Alex as they sat down in a Bob's Big Boy. Alex did not respond, sitting across from Apocalypse, staring blankly forward. "Oh, so boring," Apocalypse flicked his hand at Alex in frustration.

Alex seemed to come to himself. "What the fuck-" he started and immediately stopped as if physically restrained from speaking, although his eyes registered surprise. 

"Hello, Alex," Apocalypse said with an air of resignation. "Ask your questions now, let's get it out of the way."

"I'm your horseman," Alex said slowly.

"Yes, that's not really a question, but yes," Apocalypse smiled at the waitress who was approaching the table. "I'd like a Big Boy Omelette - no, make that two - and ten pancakes. Twelve pieces of bacon, and - a diet coke." He smirked at the waitress.

"Ah, ok," she chuckled and wrote down the order and turned to Alex. "And for you, sweetie?"

Alex looked at the waitress, but Apocalypse spoke before he could. "Just tell the nice lady what you want to eat, Alex," he spoke slowly and condescendingly, as if to a slow child. "Thalydimide," he whispered conspiratorially to the waitress. "Go on Alex, get whatever you want," the ancient mutant encouraged, as if he were not the one preventing Alex from speaking at this moment. Apocalypse looked up at the waitress and winked. "it's not as if we'll be paying for it."

The waitress laughed, but a quick tiny frown followed her laugh.

Alex spoke dully. "Burger and fries."

The waitress was only too happy to get away from the table. "Coming right up!"

Apocalypse turned back to Alex with a pleased smile. "There. As you were."

Alex, granted the freedom to speak again, gritted his jaw. "What is it you think I should be asking? Clearly you can make me do whatever you want."

"Yes, yes," Apocalypse rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It is nice to hear you say it though. Gives me...ideas..." his eyes landed on Alex's shoulders in his tight t-shirt and roamed down his chest, to Alex's disgust. Apocalypse chortled.

"Much less boring," he smiled. "But back to business for now. So after we, ahem, 'blow this joint' we are going to Nicaragua. I waited, sleeping, for this era because of a prophecy uttered about fifteen hundred years ago by a very powerful pre-cognitive mutant - you would have liked her, Alex, she also had a rebellious streak - well, until I tamed her--"

The waitress arrived with their food, hearing Apocalypse's most recent words as she put the plates on the table. She eyed him and backed away from the table cautiously, a behavior of which he took no notice. 

Apocalype continued. "Anyway, she said that there would be a divergence in the timeline before I brought humanity to their knees, and the person who caused that time divergence would be one of my horsemen." Apocalypse stopped to butter his pancakes.

Alex was confused. "You mean me?"

The man in the beige coat was stuffing his face. "No," he said around a mouthful of food. "Pancakes are divine," he announced, eating them with relish, before he continued. "That's who I'll be getting next, that's why we're going to Nicaraugua. I overslept a bit," he confessed to Alex. "But," and now he really seemed amused, "It's not like I'm accountable to anyone!" 

**************  
Xavier Mansion

Awake, again. Charles allowed himself to slowly come to and observed the angle of the light coming in his window - late afternoon, then. Teatime. Tea sounded lovely.

Charles noticed he wasn't alone; Erik was sitting in the room on a chair about five feet away. He was raptly reading a book whose cover Charles couldn't see and had not noticed that Charles was conscious. 

Charles was not in a hurry to notify him, either. He watched Erik for a moment and tried to make sense of Erik's recent actions and figure out how he felt about it. 

The last time Charles had seen Erik, previous to this, had been about two years prior. They had both showed up at a lab in Wisconsin where Charles had information that mutant children were being held for experimentation; clearly, Erik had heard the same thing from his sources as well. Charles had left Hank in the helicopter and had planned to do his usual "fake official" mental trick to get the children sprung. However, upon arrival he could not find a manned entrance. Frustrated, he had wheeled himself back to the helicopter to regroup with Hank and discuss what could be done when he saw Erik fly in and alight on the ground in front of the metal door to the facility wearing his famous (ridiculous) cape but missing his notorious helmet. 

_Erik,_ he'd thought at the older man to alert him to Charles' presence, not sure what else to say, not sure where they stood. Erik had looked over at him, in his wheelchair just outside the chopper, about a hundred feet away. It was too far away to make out his facial expression, but Erik turned slowly to the door of the facility and ripped it off its hinges. He went inside and a few moments later emerged with four children. Charles saw Erik talking to the children and pointing at him, and soon after the children were all walking towards Charles and the helicopter. He had watched, surprised, as Erik levitated away without so much as a wave goodbye. The first student to reach him was a girl of about eleven years old. "He told us you have a school, and we can live there," the girl said desperately. The children were dirty, malnourished, wearing threadbare clothing. 

"Absolutely," he'd told her, and squeezed her tiny, dirty hand. "You can come live with me as long as you want." The joyful, hope-filled smile on the girl's face was something he would never forget.

_All four of those children were killed on that bus yesterday._

Charles fought back a wave of nausea at that realization and his shudder brought his conscious state to Erik's attention. Erik shut his book and Charles saw the cover: Atlas Shrugged. Erik stood up and took a few steps closer to the bed, seemingly both drawn and repelled simultaneously. "Hello, old friend," he said carefully to Charles.

Charles puffed air out his nostrils with amusement at this greeting, although he couldn't say exactly why, and gave his customary response: "Hello, Erik."

Erik smiled slightly at the response and greeting. "You've been basically unconscious for the past two days," Erik informed him. Charles eyebrows shot up in surprise. "How are you feeling?" Erik continued, in a detached, clinical tone of voice.

"My head hurts, my side hurts, and my heart hurts," he said. "Not necessarily in that order." Erik heard him, but did not respond, just gazed at him with an unreadable expression. Charles deliberately did NOT peek in his mind to see what that expression meant.

"I was just thinking," Charles said thoughtfully, "about the the last time we saw each other."

"Berkeley?" Erik asked.

"Oh, Berkeley, that's right," Berkeley had been the last time they'd seen each other prior to Wisconsin. "Mutant Pride, 1979."

Charles recalled the events of that rally. Erik had been a speaker at the event, not as Magneto or even as Erik Lensherr but under a pseudonym and wearing a disguise, including a ridiculous mustache and cowboy hat. At the time, from the audience, Charles was both amused and annoyed by the charade, and was unable to stop himself from sending a snarky telepathic message to Erik along the lines of _Now who's hiding!_

Charles' grin at the memory of how Erik looked at Berkeley faded as he remembered how that day turned out - policemen in riot gear stormed the crowd, and somehow some cars got tossed in the air and landed on a couple police officers...Charles himself was miraculously unharmed, although at one point his chair (with him in it) had flown through the air and landed upright. Funny, that. 

"I believe you gained some new students that day," Erik said, the only betrayal that he had some idea where Charles' thoughts were about this being a red color high on his cheekbones. 

Charles frowned thoughtfully. "You know, I did. Three. Jessica, Aaron, and Tyrone." His gut twisted uncomfortably at the names, as these were also three students who had deceased yesterday. 

He forced himself to put his grief on the back burner with a ragged breath. "But I was actually thinking about when we saw each other in Wisconsin, about two years ago. You know, I also gained four students that day." He looked at Erik thoughtfully.

Erik turned his hands up, wearing almost a full smile. "What can I say? I'm a born recruiter."

Charles started to chuckle at that and physical pain shot through his banaged side. "Ooh! I don't think I'm physcially ready for you to be quite so charming," he said to Erik ruefully, and instantly regretted his choice of words as Erik's eyebrow shot up. 

Charles looked away awkwardly. "Ah, where is everyone? Last time the cavalry came rushing in when I woke up."

"I sent Mystique to fetch Pietro, and Hank is working on --some things," Erik said evasively.

Charles had a lot of questions about this statement _(Why do you want Pietro here, what is Hank working on)_ but he heard Ororo's voice down the hall at that moment and it reminded him of all the other children he had lost in the bus incident, and the tide of grief and rage and guilt within him swelled and demanded to have a voice.

"Erik," he said. Charles desperately needed to share a feeling he was not used to, a feeling reaching up from the back of his mind, cold and ugly. Though he had not personally experienced this feeling before - he had seen it in Erik's mind. 

Erik furrowed his brow at him. "Yes, Charles?"

"I want to kill him," he said it so quietly that Erik had to lean down and closer to catch the last couple words in his ear. Erik turned his head, gripping the side of the bed for balance, and then they were eye to eye, less than six inches apart. Charles breathed heavily as the rage and anger and desire for revenge coursed through him. "I want to fucking tear him limb from limb, and I have never felt that before," he gritted out, barely making any noise. 

Erik maintained eye contact. "Some people deserve that," he said carefully. This conversation was getting into very dangerous ground, considering their history of philsophical differences.

"I want to find him and destroy him," Charles continued, slightly louder, his eyes turning glassy and distant. Erik kept his face carefully neutral and did not move away.

Erik spoke in a low voice as well, carefully and clearly, not breaking eye contact with Charles. "We know where he was yesterday. The footage has been running all day. He's in Nicaragua - well, see for yourself." Erik turned on the small color television in Charles' room and flipped to a station that was playing the blurry footage of a man in a beige coat growing into a huge, distored monstronsity and doing battle with a well-muscled man in fatigues with an unusual but familiar hairstyle --Charles squinted. 

"Logan!" he exclaimed. "We have to help him!"

Erik turned off the television. "I agree. It seems Logan has been pressed into service to Apocalypse the same way Alex was, based on some of the other footage the networks have been showing. Hank has been working on a plan to rescue them, and when you are feeling up to it, he's asked me to bring you to Cerebro so he can explain."

Charles hesitated. He wanted to go to Cerebro immediately, but he needed help to get out of his bed in his current state and would almost certainly have to be lifted in to his spare wheelchair since his preferred chair had been destroyed in the bus accident. The thought of Erik doing that for him was absolutely unbearable. 

"I definitely want to do that soon, but I'd like to rest a bit more first. I think I will ask Ororo if she will bring me some tea." He looked at Erik expectantly and Erik realized Charles was waiting for him to leave. 

"Of course," Erik said smoothly. "Just let me know when you are ready." He smiled tightly and left Charles' room, trying not to feel slighted by the dismissal. 

Charles immediately contacted Hank mentally. _Please come help me get into my chair,_ he sent. _I would like see what you are working on in Cerebro._

Hank's reply was immediate, and smug. _I told Erik you wouldn't want his help,_ he messaged back. _I'll be right there._

**************  
Apocalypse and Alex were leaving the restaurant. "I just need to get my wallet out of the car," Apocalypse waived cheerfully to the waitress, stepping outside. 

Alex noticed he still had the freedom to speak as he followed Apcalypse out of the restaurant, but the ancient man was completely in control of his movements below the neck. He made eye contact with the waitress. "Get everyone out of here right now," he said in a low tone. 

Outside, Apocalypse looked at him with disappointment. "I know everything you do, you know," he said, clucking. After the crossed the parking lot, Apocalypse gestured to the building they had just walked out of with a slight flourish, a building which now had screaming people streaming out of it. 

Alex sighed and closed his eyes, then blasted the building to smithereens.

***************  
Hank wheeled Charles to the blue door of Cerebro and they had just gotten inside when a breathless and somewhat annoyed Erik showed up. He stood back, glowering, as Hank explained his thoughts to Charles. 

"Very basically, the plan is to reconfigure Cerebro so that you, Professor, can hold Apocalypse's mind frozen while we transport him Antarctica, where Ororo can make an ice storm and freeze him in place. I believe - well, hope - that will free Alex and Logan."

Charles is about to ask some follow-up questions, first and foremost to object to using young Ororo that way, when both men heard a derisive snort from Erik behind them. 

"Do you have a better plan, Erik?" Hank asked coldly.

Erik turns to Hank with his usual impassive expression. "There are too many holes in that plan. Why do you think freezing him will free Alex and Logan? What if Apolcalypse can't be frozen? What if Ororo isn't powerful enough to do what you ask? How do you expect us to 'transport' him to Antarctica?"

The flush has been rising on Hank's face since Erik had started talking. "Wrap him in metal, I guess," he muttered. 

Erik saw the look on Hank's face - along with some sprouting blue hairs - and relented. "Hank, it might work very well. Considering the resources you have, it's as well as you could have done. But please consider that most plans do not proceed linearly, and I strongly advise that you consider acquiring additional rescources for a campaign like this." 

Hank and Charles both blinked. This was not the snarky contribution they had been expecting from Erik. This was - quite cogent and compelling. 

"What, er, additional resources did you have in mind?" Hank ask, at a loss.

"Well." Erik briefly considered. "A telekinetic and a teleporter are exceptionaly handy to have around. Besides that, someone who is good in a firefight - perhaps someone who could, I don't know, blast a firestorm out of his eyes?" The left side of Erik's mouth turns up the tiniest bit.

Charles snapped his head to Hank. "Hank, did you tell him about Scott?"

Hank busied himself with some knobs on Cerebro. Scott Summers was Charles' first graduating senior at Xavier's School for Gifted Children. Alex had jumped right into teaching after coming back from Vietnam, and had suggested his nephew Scott to Charles in 1974. Scott had graduated in 1982 and had the power of being able to blast lethal energy out of his eyes. 

"Hank," Charles repeated.

Hank stood up straight and looked at Charles. "Scott is an adult. He's good in a fight," he said firmly. "You can't turn him away. If he wants to help us in this, it's not your place to stop him."

Charles felt slapped, even as he recognized the truth of Hank's words. Hank just never - spoke like that. _You are a bad influence,_ Charles thought at Erik, recklessly. Erik rolled his eyes a bit, but he said nothing. 

"Fine," Charles said in a clipped voice. "I'll call Scott." He started to do that - telepathically, of course - and Hank said quietly, "I already did. He should be here in a couple days."

"Ah." Charles consider Erik's other requests. "Well, I know of a powerful telekinetic, but she is too young," he said regretfully. "And I know of a teleporter as well, but..." Charles realized what he was saying and shut up, but Erik seized on his words.

"You know a teleporter?" 

Charles pressed his lips and did not respond, except to change the subject. "When do you expect Raven and Pietro to be here? His superspeed will be helpful, no doubt."

"Soon," Hank replied. "There was an incident at a Bob's Big Boy that Raven wanted to check out - seemed like it might be a mutant concern."

************************

Erik was hungry, so he made his way to the kitchen, and there he found Ororo washing dishes. "Hello," he said to her and she smiled shyly back. He pulled open the refrigerator and looked at his food options. "Grilled cheese, perfect," he murmured and pulled the bread, cheese and butter out of the fridge. "Would you like one?" he asked Ororo.

"Okay," she said. She watched with wide-eyed delight as a cast-iron skillet came off the hook on the wall of its own accord and landed on the burner of the stove just as Erik turned the flame on that burner. 

"Tell me about your power," he said to her conversationally, while he put butter in the pan. 

"I can make clouds, rain, wind," she said. "Sometimes lightining. And sometimes I can fly." 

"Flying is the best, isn't it?" Erik smiled at her. "I always feel a little sorry for mutants who can't fly."

"I feel sorry for _humans_ ," Ororo said with a childish grin, before realizing who she was talking to and faltered. 

Erik hesitated only very slightly in his task of frying a cheese sandwich. "What do you know about me, Ororo?" He waited, patiently cooking, as it was at least a minute before she spoke again.

"You control metal," Ororo said. Erik raised his eyebrows at her, as if waiting for more. "You - used to live here. You were friends with Professor Xavier." Erik, nods pursing his lips, listening. 

"You left him on the beach in Cuba," she continued, quieter now. "You started the mutant brotherhood. You believe mutants are superior to humans."

Erik pressed his lips together a little more tightly now and delivered a perfect grilled cheese sandwich to a plate and indicated to Ororo that it was for her. "I see the education here is comprehensive," he said lightly, then glanced at Ororo. "So you _don't_ believe that mutants are superior to humans?"

"I - " she hesitated.

"You said you feel sorry for humans," he continued, pleasantly. "I do too, sometimes, you know."

Ororo looked alarmed, as if feeling the conversation was getting over her head. She lifted her chin with the tiniest bit of rebellion. "I don't want to hurt humans," she said, "or anybody." She looked at her sandwich and seemed to be debating if she should really be eating it.

Erik actually looked pained. "I really don't want to hurt anybody, either," he said, looking down at the stove. "But enough about me," he continued abruptly. "You have a wonderful power, you know. Do you have another name?"

"Munroe," she said, through a mouthful of grilled cheese. 

Erik chuckled, an unusual sound for him. "I meant a real name, a mutant name," he said. "A name that tells people who you really are." He looked at her and she was shaking her head, eyebrows up and shrugging adorably.

"How about - Storm?" he suggested. 

She broke into a wide smile. "I like that!" she exclaimed. 

"Very well, it is how I shall address you from now on," he said, and after a moment: "Storm, can you freeze things?"

She paused, thoughtfully. "I'm not sure - I've never really tried. I guess an ice storm would be really cold, I could do that," She chewed, thinking about it. 

Erik transferred his sandwich to a plate and pulled up a chair next to Ororo to eat. "I'm asking for a reason," he said seriously. "Hank has a plan to capture the person who -- hurt your friends yesterday."

"Who killed my friends," Ororo said quietly. 

Erik saw a look on her face that no child should have to experience - and he had experiencd it far too young himself.

"Yes." He inclined his head accepted the correction from her graciously. "Hank's plan may require freezing a large amount of water quickly, and he was hoping that you could do that."

Ororo's eyes sparkled. "I'm gonna start practicing right away at the pond!" she said, with an excited determination. 

"That's good," he said approvingly. "It would be a pity for anyone to write off your power as a mere distraction." he was gently teasing, hoping for a smile from her, but when he looked up it seemd that he had struck a nerve of some kind. 

"I'm always told to 'create the distraction' in class," she said, "Professor Xavier says a well-timed distraction can sometimes be the only advantage you can get." She looked down, feeling conflicted. "But sometimes I feel stuck only doing that."

"Well, Professor Xavier is a wise man," Erik replied softly, "But I think you have more potential than merely being a distraction."

***********************

That evening, Hank walked Charles back to his study as they discussed potential variations of Hank's plan and theorized about Apocalypse. Hank took advantage of Erik not being around as they arrived at the study to bring up a delicate subject with Charles. "Charles, Erik has a point about plans not going, well, to plan," he said, trying to find the right words. "I can't help but think that it would be better if you were able to walk if we are going to deal with -"

Charles cuts him off. "Hank, your plan requires that I be able to use my mental powers at the very upper limit of their strength. I cannot give that up, even if I wanted to, which I don't." He smiles. "So we'll have to get by with me in a chair."

Hank was quiet a moment. "I was thinking of a different serum."

Charles was confused for a moment, and then read Hank's mind and remembered a conversation they'd had years ago and his eyes got wide. "Hank - I - I can't. Not now. It's not -" he paused and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. 

"Dammit, Charles, how long are you going to let your vanity - " Hank started angrily and stopped as Erik came sauntering down the hall. 

"What about Charles' vanity?" he said, amused. 

Charles face burned red. "Nevermind," he snapped. 

Hank turned to Erik, still angry. He was almost in full beast mode. "I made a serum that can let Charles walk, which doesn't affect his powers," he said. "But it has a side effect that Charles finds - unacceptable," he gritted out. 

"What side effect?" Erik says, turning to Charles, who will not look at him, cheeks still burning. "Would you lose the power of speech? Turn into a woman? Sprout warts everywhere?" Erik is trying hard not to laugh, looking at Hank to see if any of his guesses are landing near the mark. Hank just shakes his head.

"Goodnight, Erik," Charles grits, as he wheeled into his study and slammed the door behind him.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven and Peter finally meet each other, while Alex and Logan compare notes. Erik and Charles argue, and when Charles get some bad news he takes a drastic action. Apocalypse likes pancakes, and Peter might have a plan of his own.

Raven, blond-haired and looking the same age she did twenty years before, stood at the stoop of the building at the address Magneto had given her for Pietro Maximoff, feeling somewhat annoyed. It was an older apartment building in Harlem, not in the best part of town, but that wasn't why she felt annoyed. She rang the buzzer for a third time and was about to leave in frustration when a breeze ruffled her hair and suddenly a silver-haired young man was standing in front of her.

"Hey, beautiful," he said easily. "You lookin' for someone?"

She snorted. "I'm old enough to be your mother," she snapped at him, flipping to her true appearance for a moment - not that her blue form showed her age any more than her blonde form.

He stared at her in amazement for a split second before he relaxed and smiled. "Pietro Maximoff," he said as he extended his hand. "Call me Peter. And you are...?"

"Mystique," Raven replied, shaking his hand, and reluctantly added, "Some people call me Raven."

"Can I take you inside?" he asked.

Raven barely had time to say "Sure," before she was inside his apartment, and he was holding the back of her neck and she felt incredibly nauseated for a moment. Magneto had told her his power, so she figured out pretty quickly what happened, but still - "That's cool, but it's creepy," she told Peter, sitting down on a chair in the tiny apartment.

He grinned. "Sorry, but patience isn't really my thing," he said. "Anyway, I just saved you five flights of stairs." 

"Well, thanks, I guess," she said. 

"Something to drink?" 

Before Raven could reply, a glass of water was in her hand. "Uh, thanks," she said. 

In a blink of her eye, Peter was sitting down on the couch across from her. He was flipping through channels on the TV with lightning speed.

"Somebody sent you for me," he said thoughtfully. "No no, don't tell me, I can get this in - two guesses." He squinted at her. "My father."

"I don't know who your father is," Raven said, "And I don't really have time to play games. Erik Lensherr asked me to come get you because a terrible thing has happened..."

"Erik Lehnsherr? Well, that's interesting," Peter interrupted. 

"Can you just--" Raven's temper was getting the better of her, and this guy was infuriating. _No wonder Erik sent me instead of coming himself, she thought._

Peter looked chagrined. "I'm sorry, I really am," he said with carefully exaggerated words. "Time moves differently for me. I will do better." He took a deep breath. "Why did Erik Lensherr send you instead of coming to get me himself?"

Huh. Raven was surprised that was his first question. "Well, I'm not sure, actually. But I'm here because he'd like you to come with me to Charles Xavier's school in Westchester." 

Peter frowned. "Why?"

Raven could have kicked herself for not asking more questions. She'd been caught up in the drama of Charles being hurt, and the horrific death of the children, right after she arrived at the mansion for what she had hoped would be a relaxing visit. Mostly, she was mad at herself for taking orders from Erik again.

"You know what? I don't know." Her patience was now completely gone. "My brother Charles was just horribly injured in a terrible accident that killed twelve children, perpetrated by what appears to be an omnipotent madman." She stood up. "But that's not your problem, I don't know why the fuck I even listen to Erik," she muttered as she went for the door.

Peter was leaning against the door even as she reached it. "I'll come," he said. 

"Oh." Raven was not sure what to say, and the television filled the silence with a breaking report.

"-- _Thank you, Kevin. I'm standing outside the Elmsford Bob's Big Boy where there has been a devastating incident involving a mutant who rained havoc on the restaurant yesterday afternoon. Witnesses say the mutant was a blond man, and that he threw rings of fire at--_ "

Raven looked at Peter. "How long would it take you for to get to that restaurant?"

Peter grinned. "Let's find out," he said, as he handed her a neck brace.

*****************

"I guess," said Alex, "That he either doesn't want to or can't teleport." 

Alex was speaking to Logan, which was only possible because Apocalypse had gleefully decided that the best way to travel back to North America from Nicaragua was for the two horsemen to fly through the air prone, on their stomachs, and parallel to each other while Apocalypse rode on top of them. The air should have been impossibly cold, but neither man seemed to feel it.

Logan grunted. "Pretty sure he can hear us."

Alex would have shrugged, if he could have moved his shoulders. "If he wants us to shut up, he'll make us."

Logan raised an eyebrow in glum acknowledgement. "Logan," he said, by way of introduction. 

"Alex."

A few minutes went by, but Logan figured talking was better than doing nothing at all. "Well, Alex, how did you get - for lack of a better term - recruited?"

Alex was quiet a moment. "I was driving a bus full of kids when this bastard stopped us. Killed everyone but me, I'm pretty sure. Thirteen children and the Professor." Alex was going to continue, but started to choke up.

Logan snapped his neck to the side. "I hope you're not talking about who I think you're talking about. Professor Charles Xavier?"

"Yeah," Alex muttered softly. 

"Shit," said Logan. "I don't think that was supposed to happen."

Alex thought that was a strange thing to say. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Of course it wasn't supposed to happen." He eyes got wide in the darkness. "Wait, did you have something to do with all this?"

Logan sighed. "No. I don't know. Some really weird shit went down with me about ten years ago and I thought - well, I don't know what I thought. I thought I was supposed to meet Professor Xavier, him and some people named Storm, Scott, and Jean." He craned his head to look at Alex. "Do those names mean anything to you?"

"Umm...my brother's son is Scott Summers, he just graduated from Xavier's school last year. Maybe that's just a coincidence. But I don't know those other names."

Logan thought. "That could be him. Feels right."

"What did you mean by 'some really weird shit?'"

Logan hesitated. "Look. I haven't told anyone this because I'm pretty sure they'll think I'm fuckin' crazy, but - I got - sorta - possessed, a while back. But it was me, from the future, possessing me. I wasn't in control of what I did. I made the Professor bust some asshole out of prison and then we all flew to Paris - most of it didn't make a lot of sense to me, but I remember certain things real good. Like future-me telling Professor X to find Storm, Scott, and Jean. I figured those names would be important to me, so I remembered them."

Alex was quiet for a moment, digesting this. "Apocalypse told me that he was awakened by a 'divergence in the timeline'. Maybe that was what happened to you."

"Fuck, I hope not," Logan muttered. "Anyway, that was ten years ago."

"Well, when you sleep for a thousand years, maybe you have a ten-year snooze button."

Logan chuckled despite himself. "You're funny, pal." 

Neither spoke for a while, lost in their own thoughts. Then they both spoke at once.

"So, what is-

"Can I ask what-"

They both paused and laughed. Logan continued. "We wanna know about each other’s mutations. Happens about this point in any mutant conversation. Well, I heal real fast, and - I usually just show this part, but, you know, where we are - I have, uh, blades that come out of my knuckles when I want them to. They used to be just bone, but I went through a procedure that coated my bones with a metal called Adamantium a few years back." 

Alex tried to visualize this and failed. "Coated your bones? How is that even possible?"

"I think it was only possible because of my healing factor, but even so, I'm not gonna lie, pal, it was the most pain I can remember feeling." Logan glanced in Alex’s direction. “Actually, you may know the person that helped me get it done - she called herself Mystique.”

Alex snorted. “This mutant world is small. Yeah, I know her.”

“At first, she kidnapped me, thought she was rescuing me from being tortured, but we talked and I explained why I wanted the thing.” Logan paused. “Not exactly warm and fuzzy, that lady. Tough as nails.”

"So why did you want it? Was it - worth it?"

Logan nodded. "Yeah, it was. And I did it because of that possession-thing I told you about - future-me had metal blades, and he missed them. I felt it, saw them in his mind. He thought they were worth it. And since he was me..." Logan trailed off. "Anyway, how about you - what's your mutation?"

"Well, you saw it in Nicaragua. I blast things." 

Logan grunted. "Nice and simple. I like it."

**************

Raven and Peter stood outside the charred husk of the Bob's Big Boy. 

"This is definitely Alex's handiwork," Raven concluded. "So he's some kind of slave. I can't imagine that he would ever do this if he had any choice in the matter."

"I don't know, people are shitty sometimes," Peter said. He didn’t elaborate.

"Shitty is one thing, but homicidal?" Raven scoffed. Peter had no response for that, rare for him. "Besides, I know Alex. Trust me on this." She sighed. "Okay, let's go back to the mansion."

"As you wish."

They stopped about a mile away from the mansion. Raven was confused. "Why did we stop? Do you need directions?"

"No, I, uh, saw something and I'm not sure--wait here a minute." Peter disappeared. 

Raven was confused and a little annoyed at the delay, but waited as requested. 

Peter saw the strange shape in the sky coming at them from miles away, and he thought he could get closer and take a look if he moved without a passenger for a couple minutes. He zipped under and looked up. Logan he remembered, and Alex fit the description. WIth a sinking feeling, Peter felt a presence in his mind and tried to run as fast as he could back to Raven, but he found himself unable to move and realized had been recruited as a horseman.

Raven only had to wait a minute before Peter was back. "I'm sorry," he said, and then he was zipping her away to her new master. She screamed briefly before Apocalypse clamped down on her vocal and motor control. 

The horsemen were complete.

*************

Even though he had said "Goodnight," in no uncertain terms, Erik found himself walking by Charles's study late that night. The light was on and the door ajar. He hesitated for longer than he should have outside the door.

"Oh, for fuck's sake. Just come in already." Charles' irritated voice rang out.

Erik stood in the doorway. "I saw the light, and thought you might be open to a game of chess."

Charles gave him a knowing glance. "Chess, sure, why not? Do you ever feel like your whole life is a game of chess, Erik? Because I do. And I've lost all my pawns." Charles had clearly had quite a bit of scotch already that evening. "That's terrible, I shouldn't have said that," he muttered to himself. "Children, not pawns. People. Bad metaphor, Charles..."

Erik had to smile. "Don't worry about it. I'm not sure you are capable of playing chess right now anyway." He walked in and picked up the whiskey decanter. "May I?" without waiting for a response, he poured himself a drink and sat down in the chair opposite Charles. He took a sip and then looked at the very drunk and morose Charles. "Any news?" he said gently. 

Charles shook his head. "Hank would tell me if anything was on the telly. I haven't been able to reach Raven either, but -" he shrugged. "Sometimes she doesn't want to answer."

"Hank," said Erik thoughtfully. "You and Hank have an interesting relationship."

"Interesting?" Charles repeated. "You mean unhealthy."

Erik inclined his head. "Can't get anything past a telepath."

Charles barked a shout of harsh laughter before wincing and holding his side. "If you hadn't noticed, Erik, most of my 'relationships' are unhealthy."

Erik hesitated. "Touché." He wanted to find a subject that if not necessarily pleasant for the professor, wouldn't send him deeper into his negative mood. "You know, Ororo is a very impressive young lady," Erik said. "She has a wonderful power."

Charles rolled his head around to Erik with a dreamy smile. "Doesn't she? Wonderful child."

"I gave her the name Storm," Erik continued. 

Charles seemed puzzled, then angry, then confused again. "She already has a name. It's Ororo."

"She likes to be called Storm."

"Goddammit, Erik," Charles started to yell and then abruptly stopped. "Oh no," he said, the color draining out of his face. 

Erik felt suddenly alert. He whispered, "What? Is something happening?"

Charles waved off Erik's concern about imminent danger. "No, I just - remembered something." His glassy eyes focused on Erik. "Do you remember Logan, from ten years ago?"

Erik got very still. "I remember." Erik remembered what he did to Logan, and hoped that wasn’t what was on Charles’ mind at that moment.

"Well, he said to me - probably shouldn't be telling you this, but - he said I should find Storm, and Scott, and Jean. He said I needed to bring them together. When I met Scott Summers, I thought he might be the person Logan was talking about, and if Ororo is Storm..." Charles stopped and put his head in his hands. "Why is it always children," he moaned. 

He looked up at Erik, who didn’t know what to say.

"The telekinetic I mentioned to you? The one I said was too young?" Charles sighed. "Her name is Jean Gray." Erik said nothing, but was very attentive, watching Charles closely. Charles sighed again. "I met with her family about 3 years ago, when she was ten, and although they 'considered it strongly,' I, - I - ultimately failed to recruit her." 

Erik considered this solemnly. "I think we should go and talk with her."

Charles looked at him sharply. "Don't bullshit a mind-reader, Erik. I know you are thinking about what she could bring to your Mutant Brotherhood."

Erik's lips tightened into a thin line. "You used to respect my boundaries," he said quietly. 

"Ah, well," Charles blustered, waving his scotch glass in the air. "Alcohol, you know, blurs those boundaries, removes inhibitions, et cetera, et cetera," he finished bitterly. "And _your_ thoughts especially can be quite - direct, sometimes," he added.

"Quite," Erik agreed, and briefly imagined something to show Charles how direct he could be.

Charles blushed up to his eyebrows. "I think we'd better go," he said, as he downed the rest of his scotch. "Busy day tomorrow."

Erik smiled tightly. "Certainly. I just wanted to ask one more thing. Hank mentioned a serum that would let you walk _and_ keep your powers. Why aren't you using that?"

Charles bowed his head and scrunched his face. Just when Erik thought he wasn't going to respond, Charles said, not looking up and with somewhat slurred speech, "Three things. One, it's a temporary solution - my body would build up a resistance to it and it would eventually become ineffective. Two, the side effect is-" he took a breath, "-very distasteful to me, and likely permanent." 

Charles didn't say anything for a long while, with his head down and eyes closed. Erik finally prompted, "Three?" at the same time that Charles snapped his head up and said, "Bald. I would go bald. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Erik dared not chuckle, even though he sorely wanted to. Although he was a bit amused, he also felt a rush of sympathy for his friend and he pushed all these feelings at Charles. 

"I think it would suit you," Erik said softly, honestly.

Charles lifted his head to look at Erik and found himself unable to look away. The two men sat staring at each other for far longer than any social situation called for. Finally - after about three minutes - Charles looked away, licking his lower lip briefly. He put the stopper in the decanter. "Goodnight," he said, and wheeled himself out and to his bedroom.

**************

Charles was awakened far too early in the morning by Hank opening his curtains and letting in bright sunlight. "Gaaah," said Charles, intelligently. He turned over and his voice was muffled by the pillow. "Too early. Headache."

"You don't have time to have a hangover, Charles," Hank said crossly. Charles peered at him and was surprised to see that he was in his blue 'Beast' form. "Apocalypse has been all over the news this morning - he's decimating New York. And," Hank growls, deep in his throat. "He's got Raven and Peter."

Charles was instantly, brutally awake. "Oh God." He literally forgot he couldn't walk and fell out of bed, with Hank awkwardly half-catching him. "Please, Hank, turn on the television; I have to see this for myself."

Hank turned on the television and Charles saw shaky footage of what was unmistakably Mystique and Logan, back to back, methodically fighting civilians and police officers who seemed to lose their guns just as a silver blur passed them. Apocalypse was gleefully riding Alex piggy-back behind them, and Alex was blasting his energy beams at seemingly random objects, mostly cars and buildings. It was horrific and after a few moments Charles turned away and put his head in his hands. 

He sat there on the floor, leaning against his bed with his head in his arms for a few more minutes until something inside him gave way. Hank was still watching the television, when he heard Charles say, softly but firmly, "Hank, would you please help me to my chair? I would like to take the new serum you developed now."

Hank was surprised and pleased, but he quickly smothered his pleasure. "Of course," he said smoothly as his blue fur retracted into him. 

***************

In the infirmary, Hank got a syringe out of a temperature-controlled cabinet. "Are you sure?" He asked the Professor, feeling excited about what was going to happen, and also feeling guilty for feeling excited. 

"Just do it before I change my mind," Charles gritted out.

Hank walked over to Charles and injected a clear blue fluid into him. Charles rubbed his arm at the injection point. "How soon--" Charles began and watched with crossed eyes as a lock of hair slid down his face. He closed his eyes. "Oh God. I think I'd like to wake up now."

Hank frowned sympathetically. "Would you like to stand up?"

Charles nodded grimly as more hair slid down his face. Hank took his arm and helped him to his feet, when his legs immediately buckled. "Hank..." Charles said dangerously.

"It should take full effect within a few hours," Hank said anxiously. "I promise by this afternoon you will have full ability again, although your legs might be weak from disuse for a few more weeks."

"Fine. I hope you're right." Charles knew he didn't have time to waste on things like worrying. "Can you drive me to Annandale-on-Hudson this morning, Hank?"

Hank looked dubious. "I really need to focus on reconfiguring Cerebro," he said. "In fact, I'm hoping Erik can help me--"

"Erik will have to drive me, then," Charles said briskly. "Apparently he's some kind of good luck charm when it comes to my recruiting, anyway." Charles tried balancing on his own, which did seem a little easier this time, in that he lasted longer before his legs buckled.

"Oh, ok," Hank said knowingly, feeling a bit annoyed for a reason he couldn't quite put his finger on. "Well, I will need to have someone who can move large sheets of metal around Cerebro very soon, so don't don't go off on any wild goose chases."

Charles gave Hank a sharp glance. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Uh, nevermind." Hank looked at the floor, which was covered in Charles' recently escaped hair. "I guess I'll clean all this shit up."

*****************

Charles felt significantly better after having a shower. His legs were still weak but they were getting stronger by the minute. He thought he should try out his telepathy, just to make sure everything still worked, so since he saw that Erik was still sleeping, he woke him up by sending him a very loud telepathic message of _WAKE UP!_ Charles couldn't help but smirk as Erik woke in a panic. 

_Just checking,_ Charles said mentally. He pushed his impressions of the morning to Erik, starting with the television footage through himself receiving the jab from Hank. _We need to leave for Jean Gray's house as soon as possible._

_I'll be there in 10 minutes,_ Erik replied, his mind full of smooth, hard, metallic lines.

************  
Eight minutes later, Charles was waiting by the car, leaning against it and doing his best to look nonchalant. He'd decided on his beige blazer, and he thought to his surprise that he pulled off the bald look pretty well.

Erik arrived at the car and stopped short in surprise, both at Charles' vertical position and his completely bald head. He let out a wolf whistle. Charles sucked in his cheeks and did his best not to grin at Erik. 

"You're driving," Charles said casually as he took a step around to open the car door - and promptly fell on his ass. Erik lunged to catch him, but only succeeded in stumbling against the car and ended up standing over Charles. They were in this compromising position for a second or two longer than strictly necessary when Erik offered Charles a hand-up. Charles' cheeks burned as he rose, thinking he'd get ribbed for this, but Erik only seemed concerned for him. 

"I can see why I'm driving," he said, with a furrowed brow. "Please be careful until you've got your land legs. " Charles felt oddly grateful to him in that moment, as he helped Charles into the car. 

They had been driving in silence for 15 minutes or so when Erik said, "I think you should know that Peter is my son."

Not much surprises a telepath, but this did. Charles looked at him in amazement. "How is that even possible?" he said.

"Well, Charles, when a man and a woman..."

Charles impatiently brushed the joke aside. "Did you know? When we brought him to - get you?"

"He said something while he was there, about his mother knowing a man who could control metal. So...after, I looked into what he said, and..." Erik shrugged. Charles thought he might continue, but he didn't say anything else for a while.

"Hm." Charles had to think about this for a moment. "How many people know about this?" 

"Well, just him and I, really. His mother died years ago - he is being raised by a relative of hers."

Charles looked at Erik, his stony profile. "Why are you telling me?" 

"I just - wanted you to know," Erik replied, carefully controlling his thoughts, but flushing on his neck a bit. "It might - inform choices you might make, if things go badly."

Charles abruptly chortled. "Oh, Erik." 

Erik glanced at the professor. "What?"

"Did you know..." Charles considered what he was saying and then decided to go ahead, anyway, "That Raven has a son she has been keeping a secret from you?"

Erik gripped the steering wheel tighter but did not reply. "I didn't know that." The tone of his voice was unmistakably sad, to Charles surprise. 

Charles continued to study Erik while he dropped the rest of his bombshell. "She sent him to live with the circus when he was a baby, in Russia. He's the teleporter I mentioned to you."

Erik almost yanked the steering wheel, he was so shocked. He quickly forced his eyes back to the road. "Azazel's son," he breathed. "Charles, we have to collect him. You have no idea how helpful teleporters can be. Why, I've designed strategies before that--"

Charles interrupted. "Even if I thought that was a good idea, and not directly opposed to what Raven wants, he's in Germany now. Since we don't have a teleporter yet, it's at least a 7-hour flight there..."

"Hank needs time to reconfigure Cerebro anyway," Erik reminded Charles. 

"Which he needs your help with!" Charles replied, exasperated. "And since you and Hank are the only people who could potentially fly a plane..."

"Jean," said Erik. "Jean can move large metal sheets, if she is as powerful a telekinetic as you said she was when you first met her." Erik glanced at Charles. "Then you and I can fly to Germany and meet - what's his name?"

"Kurt," replied Charles, with a slight smile. Then he sighed. "I have to admit - my personal feelings may be influencing my judgement. I've never met Kurt, and I have very much wanted to. Raven is going to kill me," he added.

Then softly, a moment later, "if she survives."

*****************  
Apocalypse was enjoying his new steed, Alex, especially because Alex hated him and carrying him so intensely. He'd even gotten a riding crop, which was of course completely unnecessary because he controlled all Alex's movement from his mind, but it added a layer of humiliation coming off the delectable hatred and anger from Alex. Apocalypse's other horsemen also despised him, of course, but the anger coming towards him from Alex was so much more--personal. He savored it like fine wine. Of course, it would eventually bore him; everything, eventually, bored him. But for now, he had found two things he liked - making Alex as unhappy as possible and pancakes, and those two things were all he was really pursuing at the moment.

"Giddiyap!" Apocalypse shouted, whipping his riding crop down Alex's side. Alex felt the pain but under the mental control of Apocalypse, did not physically react. "Blast that Honda, steed!" Alex did as commanded, glad that at least this time, there was nobody in the car. 

In fact, that Honda had been one of the last undestroyed things in view. They had started their rampage about an hour earlier when Apocalypse said he was bored, at the corner of 52nd Street and 7th Avenue in Manhattan. Apocalypse basically left everyone except Alex to fight the best way they saw fit, within certain limitations; between Mystique and Peter and Logan, they decided that the best way for them all to remain safe was for Peter to disarm any police with guns or projectile weapons, and for Mystique to stay behind Logan, in front of Apocalypse and Alex. Logan took a few bullets, but only grunted as they pushed themselves out of his skin. 

But after an hour, nothing in the vicinity moved. The cops had given up and retreated, and all civilians had left or taken cover long before that. The streets were filled with dust and overturned cars, chunks of buildings, and two downed helicopters. It was eerily silent. 

"PANCAKES!" roared Apocalypse. He dismounted Alex easily and walked into a Chinese food restaurant whose front wall was half destroyed. "Pancakes." He walked up to an older Asian woman who was cowering towards the back of the restaurant and stood looking at her with eyebrows raised until she spoke.

"No pancake," she said apologetically, nearly sobbing, in broken English. 

Apocalypse rolled his eyes. "Alex, blast her," he said dismissively as he walked out and back towards the street. Alex made eye contact with Peter and hesitated a split second before following his order. He didn't dare to look to see what the result was, but he thought he saw a silver blur just before it happened-- Alex immediately put it out of his mind. 

Apocalypse walked in to the deli next door, whose front was also mostly destroyed, but he entered through the door which was still intact. 

"A stack of your finest pancakes, please," he asked the overweight man behind the counter pleasantly. 

"Right away, sir," the proprietor responded, and moved faster than he ever had to make pancakes. Apocalypse used his telekinetic ability to move a large pile of rubble from the restaurant out into the street and set-up a large round table with five chairs. 

"Come, sit with me, eat," Apocalypse said. Thus compelled, the horsemen sat down around the table, warily. Alex sat down on Apocalypse's right hand side, but he seemed to have less control of his body than everyone else was allowed, and from the look on his face, he didn't feel much like being present. "Oh, everyone, don't look at me like that," Apocalypse said, with an exaggerated pouty frown. "Sharing a meal with friends is one of the few real pleasures in life. And," he continued, with hardening features, "This could be your last meal; best to make the most of it."

Logan was unfazed by the threat. "We're not your friends," he said.

"Of course you are," Apocalypse replied, beginning to look towards to kitchen for his pancakes with a frown. "I see the definition you think 'friend' has, in your mind, but I have been around long enough to tell you that what you think of as friendship is so transitory as to basically be non-existent."

"I'm not going to get into a fucking philosophical--" Logan began, growling, and was cut-off by Peter.

"Since we're, uh, stopped, I was wondering a few things."

Logan and Mystique snapped their heads towards Peter, whose voice showed genuine curiosity. 

Apocalypse beamed. "Speak, my dear boy!" A plate of pancakes was nervously placed in front of him at that moment by the restaurant proprietor. "Thank you my good man," Apocalypse replied, licking his lips. "Keep them coming, and bring my horsemen - oh let's see, lots of eggs and bacon and potatoes. It's still breakfast, right?"

"Whatever you want, sir," the man replied, sweating, while he backed away from the table.

"Oh!" Apocalypse stopped the man and added, "And a burger and fries for my favorite here." He gazed at Alex adoringly. Alex did not respond, staring straight ahead. 

Logan and Mystique exchanged glances. They didn't need telepathy to know they were on the same page about doing whatever they could to protect Alex if Apocalypse carried out any of the activities he implied doing. 

"So," Peter said, "Why do you call us your horsemen? Are we supposed to have horses?"

Apocalypse chuckled as he spread butter on his pancakes. "Originally, my horsemen rode actual horses, yes. But it's so hard to find horses - not impossible, but frankly not worth the effort. So it's really a symbolic title. I might as well say slave, but old habits die hard, I suppose. And my habits are the oldest!" He laughed as if he had made a hilarious joke and stopped when he saw no one else was laughing. "There used to be actual tasks associated with each horseman, too; War, Death, et cetera, but -" he shrugged. "I've gotten sloppy in my old age. I just don't care that much for the details anymore. I only keep track of the details that really matter, now."

"You mean pancakes?" Raven asked sarcastically. 

Apocalypse looked at Raven and smirked, chewing thoughtfully. "You should be glad I love pancakes so much," he said softly. "If I didn't, I might well be going after your beloved brother right now." 

Raven blanched and fell silent. 

Logan turned to her. "Wait, is the Professor alive?" 

Raven was unable to lie and nodded, clenching her jaw the whole time. Alex seemed to become aware enough to look at Raven and a tiny spark of hope came alive in him again. 

Apocalypse tapped his temple. "There's no hiding things from me," he said with a wink. 

"Let's talk about the Professor," Peter said. His mind was racing, a tiny idea forming. "Professor Charles Xavier."

Logan and Alex and Raven looked at Peter like he was crazy. Peter swallowed and continued, a little desperately. "He's a telepath, you know."

"Of course," said Apocalypse. He had finished his first plate of pancakes and a second one was delivered. 

"Well, uh, so you are too! That's very fascinating. So how does telepathy work? If you are far away, can we _call you_ and send you a message?"

The other three horsemen felt that Peter was trying to do something, but they didn't know what. More importantly, Apocalypse seemed like he didn't notice - or didn't care? It was hard to tell.

"Oh yes," Apocalypse said around a mouthful of food. "If we get separated, you could just shout out for me with your mind."

Alex, Raven, and Logan suddenly realized. _CHARLES!_ they all shouted internally.

Apocalypse just shook his head sadly and chuckled. "I don't know why you are calling _him_ ," he said. "He's a broken man already, and he was badly injured in that," he snorted a moment, "--terrible accident." 

"Aw, man, you're right, it's just a huge waste of time," Peter moaned, but something seemed artificial about his words. Alex and Logan and Raven tried not to think about it lest they give anything away to Apocalypse. This was made easier by the fact that Peter's next question made no sense to them.

"So, what's the plan, Al?" Peter asked brightly. "World domination? Where are we starting?"


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik and Charles travel to collect the mutants they need for their plan to defeat Apocalypse.

The two men in the black Mercedes pulled up in front of the house in the cul-de-sac whose mailbox was marked with the name 'Gray.' "I'm really not sure why I brought you," Charles muttered to Erik, walking carefully towards the front door, but his legs seemed to be holding now.

Erik grinned. It made him unaccountably cheerful to see his old friend walking again. "Because you need me," he said, as if reminding Charles. "Born recruiter, remember?"

Charles tried to frown but Erik's good mood was infectious and a smile came through his frown. "Let's hope so."

Jean's parents answered the door and Charles introduced them to Erik as "My colleague, Mr. Erik Lensherr." Erik looked at Charles with a raised eyebrow and did his best to be polite to the humans. It wouldn't do to terrorize the girl by mistreating her parents, even if they did refer to her gift as "an illness."

The adults chatted for a while before Jean came downstairs. She was red-haired and looked younger than her 13 years, but most mutants seemed to age a little slower than most humans. She sat down and didn't say anything. Charles felt her in his mind and almost rebuked her, then thought of how much they needed her help and thought better of it.

 _Hello, Jean,_ he said, broadcasting so that Erik could hear too. As he felt her surprise, he continued, _Did you think you were the only one of your kind?_

Erik thought loudly, so both telepaths would hear, _We're mutants, Jean. We're like you._

"Really." The word was a statement. "I doubt that."

Erik felt great masses of metal moving outside and when he checks the window, he saw that all cars in sight were being levitated about ten feet in the air. "Oh Charles, I like this one!" he said with a grin. 

Charles turned to Jean. "You have more power than you can imagine, Jean. The question is -" Charles started to say something that he knew would come out as pompous and ridiculous. He couldn't think of a way to finish his sentence and looked at Erik helplessly. 

"The question is," Erik continued, lowering his voice, "Will you help us defeat an omnipotent madman?"

Charles looked at Erik, aghast, but Jean's eyes got big and she started to smile.

*******************  
Erik was disgusted by how readily Jean's parents agreed to send Jean on her way with them, but he held his tongue and smiled politely as they said their goodbyes. The two men explained the situation to Jean as well as they could on the 90-minute car journey, bickering about several of the details, first outwardly and then telepathically, until Jean had to remind them she could still hear them.

Finally they pulled up at the mansion. Ororo and Hank were waiting outside, having been notified by Charles telepathically that they were bringing a new student. Jean got out of the car slowly, with a rebellious tilt to her lip. 

"Hi," said Ororo shyly.

"Hi," said Jean.

"What is your mutation?" Ororo asked.

Jean blinked to be asked so directly. She chewed the inside of her cheek for a second and then lifted the Mercedes behind her into the air for the second time that day. 

"Oh wow!" Ororo was plainly impressed as the adults looked on, amused (and also impressed.) Hank gave Charles a significant glance. "Just like Magneto," Ororo continued, shooting a glance at Erik.

Jean, of course, knew the name 'Magneto' only by reputation, and she responded quickly, "Yeah, except I can do it with anything, not just metal, and I'm not - evil," she finished lamely as the thoughts of the other people there slowly pierced her mind and she looked up at Erik with big eyes. Erik looked at her with a steely gaze. 

Hank coughed and looked away, and Charles started to panic a bit before Ororo said, "Oh, he's not evil! He saved my life. And the Professor's," she looked, beaming, at Erik as whatever clouds had been in the sky cleared and sunlight shone down. Erik smiled, and Jean relaxed. 

Ororo turned back to Jean with excitement. "So if you are a telekinetic, you can do this, right?" Ororo levitated about ten feet in the air, grinning. 

Jean hesitated. "I've never - um -" then the red-head started floating upwards, looking startled. "Oh, wow!" She breathed, looking around as if her world had cracked wide open.

Charles couldn't help but laugh with delight. _This_ was the reason he had a school, so youung mutants could explore and discover their powers without shame. "I would suggest doing this in the flying room," Charles said, seeing Jean wobble dangerously. "It's padded, so if you fall you don't hurt yourself." Just then she did fall, and Erik gracefully leaped to catch her.

Jean was a little shaken, but unhurt. Hank stepped forward. "Hello, Jean," he said with a smile. "My name is Hank McCoy, and if flying practice can wait a bit, I could really use your help saving the world." 

Charles couldn't stop grinning as Hank led Jean and a floating Storm away to Cerebro, explaining how re-configuring Cerebro worked. Despite the heartache of losing the other children, despite the danger facing the world right then, he so loved having a school.

*******************

For the trip to Germany to hopefully enlist Kurt, they took the same plane they flew in ten years ago, except this time it was only Erik and Charles on the plane. Erik didn't even start the engine, he just used his power to move the plane into flight. Charles was resting his eyes when he sensed rather than saw Erik in front of him.

"Erik!" he snapped in consternation, looking towards the cockpit. "Who's flying the bloody plane?"

Erik raised an eyebrow and sat down across from him. "I am," he said calmly. "We're miles from anything, and I will sense other aircraft if we come near them," he explained. "I do need to stay awake, but I can easily fly the plane and still," he smiled more warmly at Charles now, "talk with my friend."

"Oh? Are we friends again?" Charles asked, with a subtle sarcasm.

Erik refused to be baited. "I have been enjoying working with you again," he said evenly. "I had hoped perhaps you felt the same."

The words were out of his mouth before Charles could stop them. "I won't be recruited into your mutant brotherhood, Erik."

A muscle twitched in Erik's cheek as he tried to stick to his resolve about not being baited.

"Chess?" He said, finally.

Charles looked at him a moment and then gave one curt nod before looking out the window. Erik retrieved the chess set, from the same place it had been stored ten years ago, the metal-tipped pieces singing their location to him. Charles poured himself a scotch and Erik wished he could do the same, but didn't want to risk getting sleepy on the 7-hour flight.

"What do you think he wants?" Erik murmured, after they were several moves into the game.

There was no question who he was talking about. "What any villain wants," he said. "World domination. Isn't that what you want?"

"Do you think I'm a villain, Charles?"

Charles looked at him incredulously. "Do you think you're _not_?"

Erik did not reply, but most of the nearby metal started shivering.

"Not even getting into whatever happened twenty years ago, the last time we played chess like this you proceeded to try and kill my sister -"

"That was for the good of--" Erik began, but Charles spoke over him.

"And you dropped a _fucking_ stadium on the _fucking_ White House," Charles continued, his voice growing louder. "By what stretch of the imagination are you NOT a villain?"

Now, he stopped, at looked at Erik, waiting for a response.

"The last time we saw each other," Erik corrected Charles, looking down at the chessboard, "I freed four mutant children and sent them to you."

"Well, that's not what I -"

"The time before that," Erik said, louder now, accompanied by the sound of creaking metal, "I saved your life at a protest-turned-riot, and sent you three more students."

Charles had no response for that, his eyes wide as he looked around at the plane walls.

With a visible effort, Erik calmed himself --and all the nearby vibrating metal--down.

The men both silently continued their chess game for a time, until Charles couldn't be silent anymore. "I appreciate that you send me students, but that's really about you, too, isn't it Erik? I can see that you are doing your best to charm Ororo, and Jean, and I am sure you will be nothing but charisma incarnate when we meet Kurt, as well. You want me to deal with them until they are old enough that you can use them for your own nefarious purposes, isn't that right?" Charles spoke calmly, with a sneer, and Erik felt more enraged with every word.

"What student have I _EVER_ stolen from you?" he shouted, standing.

Charles also stood up. " _RAVEN_!" The two men stood looking at each other, breathing hard, plane shaking. Charles continued, still firmly but quieter, "I will not be used by you."

"Used?" Erik said incredulously and rolled his eyes, at the limit of his patience. He grabbed Charles' hands roughly and pulled them to his temples, ignoring the scotch glass, which crashed to the floor and broke. " _Mein Gott_ , look into my mind and tell me what you see!"

Erik pushed his recollection of the events of the day of the bus incident to the forefront of his mind and made sure not to skimp on any details. He started from the moment he'd heard Charles' mental scream, and continued with how he'd left the office building he'd been in, how he met Ororo, seeing all the dead children's bodies as he moved aside the bus, part by part, and the pulsing thought behind all of it: _save Charles, save Charles, save Charles_.

Charles tried to pull his hands away but Erik held them tighter, focusing only on his memories: Carefully flying Charles back to the mansion, with Ororo hanging onto his arm; performing surgery on Charles, while his mind anxiously chanted _this has to work, can't lose Charles;_ sitting in Charles' room for days, waiting for him to wake up.

Both of their eyes were full of tears when Erik finally relented and lowered Charles' hands from his temples. "Erik, I-" Charles started to speak, but his voice caught in his throat and he bit his quivering lip instead.

Erik was undone by Charles' tears and lip-biting. He did what he had wanted to for over twenty years and leaned in to kiss Charles Xavier.

Charles turned his head, a split second before the kiss would have landed. "No," he said quietly.

Erik stopped, confused and hurt. He stopped but could not move away, breathing heavily, his face no more than two inches away from Charles' cheek. He knew Charles could feel the lust pouring off him; even someone without a shred of telepathic ability would have sensed that.

"Why not?" he said finally, a desperate whisper.

Charles pulled his head back a bit more and looked directly to his side, even further away from Erik. "We're both men," he said, as if the words were being reluctantly dragged out of him.

Erik felt blindsided. "Obviously! Wait - is _that_..." he stepped back and looked at Charles, eyes wide with realization.

Charles also stepped back, wiping his eyes briskly.

Erik could not let this go, not after twenty years of sexual frustration. "Are you telling me you never - felt -" Erik couldn't articulate what he wanted to say, so he pushed some of the 'what if' scenarios he'd fantasized about over the years towards Charles' mind: he and Charles making out in the water the night they'd first met, of them caressing each other in that hotel room they shared the night after meeting Angel, of what could have happened the night before Cuba, if they'd done more than play chess...

"Stop it, please," Charles whimpered. He was flushed again, biting his lip, and Erik could smell the arousal on him. Feeling somewhat vindicated, Erik watched Charles, in a small way enjoying his discomfort as he tried to pull himself together.

"I have - felt - yes, you are right," he said, every broken word an effort. "But I won't. I can't."  
I can't--" Charles trailed off and refused to speak anymore.

Erik felt his walls coming up again. "Because you hide," he spat out the words. "Because you always try to fit in, to be human, to be heterosexual."

Charles did not deny this.

Erik laughed harshly. "Well. Enjoy your flight."

Frustration was rolling off Erik in waves as he stomped back to the cockpit. Charles felt a moment of slightly disappointed relief before he realized what Erik was doing in the cockpit.

Charles’ breath caught in his throat and his hands gripped the table in front of him with white knuckles as Erik broadcast a blow-by-blow description of what he was doing in the cockpit - opening his pants, reaching his hand in...

Charles squeezed his eyes shut to no avail and began to whimper as Erik as sent him images of what he would rather be doing right now. Unable to resist touching himself, Charles moved quietly and dared not send a hint of complaint or reciprocity to Erik's mind. Erik finished with a sense of smug satisfaction and Charles finished with sweaty guilt.

Charles had just started to drift off to sleep when he heard a desperate mental shout, as if several people he cared about were shouting his name from a great distance. His eyes snapped open as he realized he recognized the voices...definitely Raven, and he thought, Alex. He closed his eyes to focus his concentration inward and realized that the third voice, not quite as recognizable to him as the other two but still familiar, with a flavor of cigars and beer, was Logan. They were very far away and it took all his focus, but he could reach a tendril out--

 _Raven,_ he whispered. He could see her, even, faintly, as if through a heavy mist. She was sitting around a table with four other people in a deli, with rubble all around. He sensed her unhappiness and sent her a wave of love. He was surprised and a little hurt when she pushed him to the side, mentally, until he realized she was pushing him towards a very specific person - the fourth horseman, the one who hadn't called his name. He barely knew Peter, and it would have been very hard for him to reach the young man mentally at this distance without Raven acting as a directional. 

_Peter,_ he strained to be heard. 

_HiProfessorSorryItsFastButHeCantHearMeWhenIThinkFastEnough_

Charles frowned and shook his head. The words whipped through his mind with such speed he wasn't aware of them until they were gone. 

_Please, can you go slower,_ Charles asked. Peter did not respond and Charles finally parsed the first message he got from the young man. He realized that Apocalypse was controlling them mentally and no doubt was listening to their thoughts, which is why Raven pushed him away. 

_I understand,_ he sent to Peter and paused to think. They must have something to tell him.

_OhRadicalI'mSoGladIFiguredItOutWhenHeToldAlexThisBlastThisLadyAndIWasAbleToSaveHerAndHeDidntKnowWellIThinkHeDidn'tKnowMaybeHeJustDidntCareButAnywayIWasAbletoDisobeyADirectOrderSortOfAndIToldEveryOneToCallYouAndHeHeardThemButHeDoesntThinkYouAreAThreatHe'sPrettySloppyActuallyForSomeoneWhoIsEssentiallyOmnipotentOhAndHeCantTeleportButHeCanDoPrettyMuchEverythingElseWellIMeanLikeISaidIWasAbleTo_

Charles realized he was not breathing, desperately trying to follow Peter's words and thought process.

 _Break, please!_ he implored mentally. The flow of words stopped immediately and Charles took a moment to catch his breath. An idea occurred to him. _Peter, can you send me pictures or images, instead? A movie, if you like_. Charles was very pleased with himself for having this idea, although he grudgingly recognized he had Erik to thank for it from all the dirty scenarios he had received from the man just a few minutes before.

_DidYouSayADirtyMovieProfessor?_

Hastily, Charles got his thoughts under control. _Just show me what you need to tell me,_ he answered brusquely, and quickly added, _Fast and dirty is fine._

Peter sent him images like a movie being played at high speed. He saw how poor Alex was suffering, saw the destruction being perpetrated in Manhattan, saw a very fast conversation happening where Peter was asking Apocalypse about the horsemen, and about what his plans are. _Well done,_ thought Charles and sent a wave of pride to Peter even as he kept following the conversation, when it abruptly slowed to real time. 

"First we take Manhattan," Apocalypse was saying. "Then - Oh, I see we have company."

Charles could see the ancient mutant in his minds' eye, sitting in the burnt-out deli with a half-eaten stack of pancakes in front of him. He saw Raven, Logan, and Alex, too, looking around with furrowed brows to see who Apocalypse was talking to. And most chilling of all, he could see Apocalypse looking straight at him and smiling. 

"I was just explaining the plan to my horsemen," he chuckled. "I doubt much harm will come of you listening." 

_GLAD TO HEAR IT,_ Charles broadcast as loud as he could, wanting all his friends to hear it. In fact, even Erik heard, and came into the cabin from the cockpit, frowning. 

Raven and Alex especially seemed comforted somewhat by his voice. Peter looked terrified, probably thinking he might have to deal with repercussions for his behavior.

"Oh, Peter, don't be silly," Apocalypse chuckled. "You can't do anything I don't allow." He turned his attention back to the professor. "So, yes, world domination, and then..." his eyes got dreamy. "What do you get the man who has everything, Charles?" 

"I have no idea," Charles replied, out loud. He waited.

"You see, there was a prophecy told to me, many, many years ago. It predicted my death would only come about under a congruence of certain circumstances, and some of those have happened already. So, my time is coming, and--"

"And you think you know how to prevent it?" Charles guessed. 

"Goodness, no." Apocalypse seemed genuinely perturbed by the idea. "I don't want to prevent it! I have done everything, seen everything, and I am already even tired of the glory that is called pancakes. No, Professor, I am more than ready to be done with this life. I want to die. But per the prophecy, certain things still have to happen for that to occur. One of those things is that I need to 'bring humanity to its knees'." Apocalypse stopped for a moment to reflect. "You know," he admitted after a moment, almost conspiratorially, "I'm not even sure exactly what that means. The words in the prophecy were very specific though, so I expect that my horsemen and I will keep destroying humanity and everything it has made until - I don't know - some cosmic equivalent of humanity-on-its-knees has been reached, I suppose, and then I will be able to be killed." He burped. 

Charles was filled with horror at the thought of what Apocalypse planned to do and he saw the same horror reflected on the faces of his friends, the horsemen. 

"You can't do that," he said, standing, anger swelling within him even as he realized his own impotence in this situation. "You CAN'T DO THAT!"

Apocalypse smiled sadly and clucked at him. "My dear Professor, I can and I will. If you manage to survive long enough, the best you can hope for is that I will die by your hand. But all this conquering may take a while, so don't hold your breath!" Apocalypse's chuckling was being drowned out by a loud noise from within the plane, and Charles dimly became aware that it was his own body, screaming at the top of his lungs. 

"Charles!"

Charles abruptly stopped and he was back in the airplane and Erik was standing in front of him, with his hands on the shorter man's shoulders, having just shaken him to stop the screaming. 

Charles was dazed. "I - I need to sit, please." 

Erik helped him sit and stood by him anxiously, chewing the inside of his cheek. It was rather adorable, Charles thought, and then quickly shut the door on that train of thought.

"What happened?" Erik inquired softly. 

Charles explained everything as well as he could to Erik, who paid rapt attention. Instead of reacting with anger, though, he analyzed the information methodically. "Well, he puts a lot of stock in that prophecy," he finally said. 

Charles frowned. "You think it's not true?"

Erik shrugged. "I've never met a true prophecy that wasn't self-fulfilling."

Charles leaned back and thought about that, and puffed some air through his nostrils in amusement. "If you ever put on that ridiculous mustache and cowboy hat and speak at a mutant rally again, you should put that in your speech."

Erik looked at Charles in surprise and started laughing, and the more he thought about it, the more he laughed. Charles caught the bug, too, and both men laughed until their sides hurt, despite or maybe because of the grave danger the world was in. For a moment, the world was shut out, and it was just two friends laughing at a funny idea until they couldn't breathe.

***************

Charles did finally manage to get some sleep, but he woke after only a couple hours because something crystallized in his awareness. The sun was coming up, a few vicious rays stabbing into the cabin. The second his eyes opened he said, "Erik."

"Hmm?" Erik was awake, of course, as he needed to be to "fly" the plane, but his eyes were red from sleep deprivation. He was sitting just across from Charles, and Charles thought it ought to bother him but instead it felt rather like a warm blanket he could wrap around himself...

Shaking his head to clear it, Charles chased down the idea that woke him up. "Erik. I think I can do it, with Cerebro. I think I can literally bring humanity to its knees in a way that fulfills the prophecy and would allow Apocalypse to be killed."

"Old friend," said Erik, "That is the craziest fucking thing I've ever heard."

"Well!" Charles pushed up from lying on this back to leaning on his elbows on the narrow couch on which he had slept. "Don't sugarcoat it for me."

Erik chuckled. "I am sorry, but wouldn't you be basically be betraying the entire human race?"

"It's just symbolic," Charles said. "'Bring humanity to its knees'. Apocalypse admitted he wasn't even really sure what that meant. Maybe he just needs to believe the prophecy has been fulfilled in order to allow himself to be killed. You said as much earlier - about true prophecies being self-fulling." Charles stood up and started pacing. "Peter also said something about him being essentially omnipotent, but sloppy. Maybe we can use that."

Erik thought about it, rubbing his chin. "Symbols are not meaningless," he said, significantly, then grimaced. "Also, I just can't stomach the thought of kneeling for him."

"Oh, Erik," Charles said. "You, of all people. You're not human, remember?"

Erik smiled. "I'm actually liking this idea a lot better now."

"I think -" Charles paused and searched his memory. "I think Peter also said that Apocalypse can't teleport." 

"Did he now?" Erik was surprised and pleased. "Now that's information was can use! I shall have to tell Peter I am proud of him for relaying that tidbit," he said. 

"Do you - see him often?" Charles voice was softer, and Erik looked at him and tried to answer the question honestly.

"I do see him," he said slowly. "Maybe not as often as I should. We - have dinner occasionally, maybe every couple of months--" Erik looked down. "Well, it's been about six months; perhaps it's time again." Erik seemed so absolutely vulnerable that Charles felt a rush of sympathy and affection for him. 

"As far as I can tell, he is a wonderful young man," Charles said, forcing himself _not_ to go over to Erik. "You should be proud." Erik smiled, thinking about Peter.

Both men moved to the cockpit for the plane's final descent (this was the part of flight that Erik was least experienced at, since he couldn't sense the asphalt, as it wasn't made of metal.)

"Charles," said Erik casually, carefully lining up the runway, "I've been wondering - do you have my helmet?"

"Why would I have that?" Charles said, busying himself by checking gauges that he had no idea how to read.

Erik sighed. "You are such a terrible liar, Charles."

***************

Charles and Erik arrived at the circus while it was still early in the morning, the sun bright but low in the sky. They asked about seeing Nightcrawler and were told he doesn't have visitors. Charles sighed. "Please tell him his uncles are here," he asked the gatekeeper, a large Russian man, beseechingly. The guard crossed his arms. "Nightcrawler no family," he said firmly. 

Erik rolled his eyes at Charles. "Oh, fine," Charles snapped, and made the man pleased to see them and only too happy to take them to the Nightcrawler. 

The suddenly jovial Russian man took them to a battered-up old RV and knocked on the door. 

"Da?" A tenor voice inside replied. 

"Your uncles are here!" the big Russian gatekeeper boomed, laughing.

There was a moment of silence, and then the door to the trailer burst open.

To say that Charles and Erik were not prepared for his appearance would be an understatement. The slim, indigo-hued man had prominent canines, pointed ears, and - was that a tail?

Erik recovered first. "Kurt! I am so excited to meet you!"

Kurt looked at him warily. "Who are you? My only family is here." He spoke English, but with a German accent. 

Charles smiled. "Ah, now, you know that's not strictly true, right, Kurt?"

Kurt looked at him and then at Erik again, and slammed the door. 

The big Russian man laughed and walked away. 

Charles and Erik looked at each other. "Kurt," Charles began, when he heard a whoosh behind him. 

"Did my mother send you?" the voice came from behind them, from the whoosh. Both men turned to face him and he disappeared with a pop and they heard another whoosh to their right. 

_It's like meeting Peter all over again,_ Charles inwardly complained to Erik. Charles turned to his right and tried again. "Kurt, your mother did not actually send me, but--"

Pop, whoosh. Charles couldn't even tell where the whoosh was this time.

Erik addressed Kurt out loud, not bothering to verify his location. He had a very different approach than Charles. "Your mutation is amazing!" Erik exclaimed, delighted. "You are a work of art!" Pop, whoosh. Directly behind them. Neither man turned this time. Erik continued.

"Kurt, I have to apologize for dropping in on you this way. We are in a desperate situation, and are hoping that you are up for a little adventure."

Charles started to speak and Erik shot him a look with a minute shake of his head. Charles rolled his eyes and bit his tongue. Pop, whoosh. Now he appeared right in front of them. 

"What kind of adventure?" Kurt asked suspiciously. 

"Oh, you are beautiful," Erik breathed. 

Kurt liked hearing that, and he lowered his head and looked at Erik shyly, under thick eyelashes. Charles picked up enough of his thoughts that he started to feel a bit alarmed and thought maybe Erik should know something about their new indigo friend before they continued their conversation.

 _Erik, he likes you,_ Charles sent a with warning bell thought attached to it. 

"Well, I like _him_ ," Erik replied out loud, indicating to Kurt that he would like to get a better look at his tail. Kurt moved his tail sinuously closer to Erik, almost sensually. Charles was beside himself.

 _Erik, please, you are going to give him the wrong impression,_ Charles implored mentally. He was beginning to feel a little desperate about this, for reasons he wasn't willing to think about.

"Am I?" Erik looked sharply at Charles. "Are you sure? Maybe I am giving exactly the impression I intend to give." He smiled again at Kurt.

Charles spoke out loud now, disgusted. "For Pete's sake, Erik, this is Raven's son!"

Both Kurt and Erik looked at him. "So you do know my mother," Kurt said. 

Charles swallowed. "Yes, Kurt, I am actually your uncle - well, sort of. My name is Charles Xavier, and this is Erik Lehnsherr." 

Kurt looked at Erik. "Are you also my sort-of uncle?" 

Erik smiled. "Exactly right."

"And you two - you speak to each other, in here?" Kurt tapped his temple. 

Charles was surprised. This was a very perceptive young man! "Yes. Erik and I are both mutants, like you, and my power is telepathy. Erik is a metallokinetic. Erik?..."

Erik lifted Kurt's RV behind them about four feet off the ground, and then gently set it down, smiling at Kurt the whole time.

Kurt smiled, politely. "These are very nice powers. Thank you for showing me. And you two - you are - lovers?"

Charles turned beet red. Erik inclined his head thoughtfully. "Would it bother you if we were, Kurt?"

Kurt dematerialized from standing in front of them and rematerialized on the step inside his trailer. "No," he said slowly. "It wouldn't bother me." He stepped back. "Please, uncles, come inside."

Charles and Erik entered the tiny trailer and sat down in the seats Kurt indicated. "I haven't spoken to my mother in many years," he said. "I - had some feelings I couldn't explain to her, and I feared her judgement. I am thinking now maybe I was mistaken," he said thoughtfully, looking at Erik and Charles. 

Charles couldn't abide what Kurt was thinking any longer. "Kurt, Erik and I aren't - lovers. Not that there's anything wrong with that," he said hastily, as he saw Kurt's face fall. He turned to Erik helplessly.

"Your mother is a very open, progressive person," Erik said smoothly. "I doubt there's anything you could tell her that would dismay her. Especially because, right now," he leaned in closer to Kurt and lowered his voice,"Right now, she is in a very dangerous situation, and we could really use your help to get her out of it."

Kurt looked alarmed. "What happened? Is she - hurt?"

"She has been captured by a very dangerous person, and extracting her will be tricky," Charles explained, in the same low tone that Erik had been using. "Your teleportation could solve the problem immediately, and we could have your back here for lunch."

Erik gave Charles a warning look. _You're over-promising. Why didn't you just leave the talking to me?_

 _You never said that I should,_ Charles retorted mentally.

_If I had, would you have listened?_

Kurt was watching both their faces, amused. "I'm not sure I believe that you are not lovers," he said with a smirk. And then after a moment, he said, softly, "I know what I am." Charles and Erik stopped their internal bickering and gave him their full attention. "I know from early that I like men, and I also know that is wrong to feel that way. I put a saint on my body for everytime I think of sex with man." He indicated the intricate patterns that decorated his body. Charles gasped at the thought they they were scars, self-inflicted scars, put there because he was punishing himself.

"Oh, Kurt," Charles said. Erik pressed his lips together, but said nothing.

Kurt looked down at his scars. "Is okay now. I have struggle for many years, but now God tell me that I am the way he made me." He looked up and smiled at Erik and Charles. "And now, God send family to tell me they are like me."

Charles bit his lip. "Yes, Kurt," he said softly. "We are like you."

Kurt smiled. "Okay, where we go?" he said, looking at the two older men expectantly. "We teleport there?" 

"Yes, please, that would save a lot of time," Erik responded. He was deliberately not looking at Charles.

Kurt held his hands out to the two men and they each took a three-fingered hand. "I need to have been there before, or see where I am going," he cautioned them. 

"Ah, well, I think I can help with that," Charles said, and sent Kurt a detailed mental picture of where his home was and specifically, the blue hallway outside Cerebro. 

"Wunderbar!" Kurt said excitedly. With a pop in Germany and a whoosh in the mansion, Erik, Charles and Kurt found themselves in the startled presence of Hank, Jean, Ororo, and Scott. 

Hank recovered first. "Welcome home, Professor!"

Charles was back in his element, rubbing his hands together. "Wonderful to see you, Hank! Now, I hope you haven't gotten too far on that Cerebro re-config, because - " here Charles walked up to Hank and put both hands on both of Hank's shoulders, "we're going to have to change it back to its original setting."

Hank's face fell.


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes try to execute their plan, if they can stop getting in each other's way long enough to do that.

Scott had arrived a few hours before the party of teleporters, and he was enjoying making the two younger girls giggle with bad jokes and teenage antics as they "helped" Hank. Hank was in his beast form, desperately trying to keep his workers focused. 

"Scott!" Charles exclaimed, as soon as he'd given the bad news about needing to re-configure Cerebro to Hank. "How wonderful to see you again!" He gave a warm bear hug to the young man in sunglasses.

A memory of talking with Storm flashed in Erik's mind, and he pulled Kurt aside and muttered something in German in his ear. Kurt nodded and winked. The exchange happened so quickly that almost no one else in the room noticed. 

"Hmm, Professor X, there is something...different about you," Scott said thoughtfully, playing up the bit for the benefit of his young teenage audience. "New hair-do?"

Charles chuckled and played along, smoothing a hand across his hairless scalp. "It was a free gift with my new legs," he said dryly, and Jean and Storm giggled. Charles began introducing Kurt to everyone present, and Kurt showed that he didn’t want to be left out of the fun, either, flipping and jumping and teleporting back and forth across the room. The young mutants and Charles were so wrapped up in his antics that they didn’t notice an increasingly frustrated Hank being led out of the room by Erik. 

"Beast, my man," Erik clapped his hand on Hank's shoulder as soon as they were out of Cerebro. Hank frowned, realizing that Erik always did seem to appreciate his beast form more than his human one, but also that Erik wanted something from him.

"What do you want," Hank said. It was not quite a growl.

Erik around to make sure they were not being observed. "We can't be overheard."

Hank frowned and nodded, waiting for Erik to continue. 

"Also, once I tell you this, you may have to avoid Charles for a bit," Erik continued, "Of course, it's your choice. Once you hear what I have to say, I think you will agree that it would be best if he doesn't read your mind for a while."

"You're going to betray him, again, and you expect me to help you?" Hank said in amazement, with growing anger. "Wow, you have some nerve!" He grabbed Erik by the neck and lifted. This was not as effective as it would have been on a person who couldn't levitate, but it still hurt his throat. 

"Hank, please, hear me out," Erik pleaded, barely able to speak. He was about to pass out from lack of oxygen when Hank finally relented. 

Erik spoke quickly and intensely. He wasn't sure how much time he would have to convince Hank. "I heard Charles just tell you that he needs Cerebro to be set to its original configuration. I'm here to ask you if you can keep both configurations, both the original 'broadcast to humans' setting and the 'focus everything on Apocalypse' setting, and more importantly, they need to both be accessible instantaneously."

Hank's reaction while listening went from affronted incredulity to detached calculation, as the scientist in him examined the problem. He did some math in his head and sighed. "I - I think it might be possible to do that, if I had unlimited time. But the people you have assigned to work with me are not -"

"I will do anything you need," Erik said. "And I believe I can encourage Jean to be a better assistant for you, too."

"Fine," said Hank. "Now, why would I do this?"

Erik explained what Charles learned from Apocalypse, how he actually wanted to die, and how that led Charles to the idea of literally bringing humanity to its knees via Cerebro. Hank was horrified. "But - that - " he swallowed. "How humiliating, even if it does work."

"Yes," Erik conceded. "And it might work. Maybe after Charles does that with Cerebro, Apocalypse will drop his defenses and say, 'ok, kill me now.' " Hank looked doubtful and Erik inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. "Yes, exactly. If it sounds too good to be true it probably is. But Charles is more trusting than I am, and I want to have a Plan B in case things don't go exactly the way Charles is hoping. I want for you to be able to reverse Cerebro if things go badly, at which point we would return to your plan, that Charles will hold Apocalypse captive mentally while I - take care of him.”

Erik held his breath while Hank eyed him. "You are appealing to my intelligence and my ego," he said thoughtfully. 

Erik smiled a little despite himself. "Is that good?"

Hank smirked. "I'm just analyzing. I've been studying diplomacy recently. But that's beside the point - I am inclined to agree with your assessment. If you help, I can probably have those revisions made to Cerebro within 8 or 9 hours."

Erik closed his eyes and nodded. That meant staying up all night, again, but he had more to say to Hank.

"One more thing," he said. "Charles can't know about our Plan B." 

Hank frowned and then realization dawned across his blue furry face. "Because Apocalypse is a mind reader." 

Erik nodded, tiredly. "This is why I asked you about being prepared to avoid Charles for a while."

"Well..." Hank had a glint in his eye. "I may not have to avoid him completely. You don’t live with a telepath for twenty years without learning some tricks to keep your thoughts private.”

Erik was baffled and intrigued. Hank couldn't help feeling a little smug. "Sex," he said significantly. Erik frowned, with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Hank couldn't mean...

"He gets very uncomfortable when I think about sex," Hank continued, with a smirk. "It won't stop him if he's determined, but it will deter him from peeking."

Erik swallowed his chuckle. "That's - good to know, Hank. However, for myself, I think I will need a - stronger level of protection, so...I need you to tell me where my helmet is."

Hank looked into the eyes of the man who had twice before betrayed him and wondered if he was making a huge mistake. 

*************** 

Charles noticed after a few minutes that Hank and Erik had left together and had been gone quite a while. They usually didn't get along very well, so that was odd.

"Kurt," Charles said with a smile to the young mutant, who was pop-whooshing all over the room to the delight of the other teenagers, "What did Erik tell you before he left the room?"

"He said--" Kurt grinned and appeared upside down, directly in front of Charles' face, " 'Distract my boyfriend, I have a surprise,' " Kurt popped off again, leaving Charles with a sinking feeling in his stomach just as Hank re-entered the room.

"Professor," Hank said briskly, "I am prepared to make the changes you requested. The bad news is, you will need to bring Apocalypse here, inside Cerebro, for it to work."

"Why?" Charles frowned. "I should be able to do everything from here, with him anywhere in the world." Charles started to explain the new plan, but Hank cut him off.

"Erik told me the plan, actually," he admitted, being careful to keep an image of himself having sex with Raven in his mind as he said this to Charles. "There's no need go over it again."

"Well, that's fine," Charles said, suddenly uncomfortable. He wrapped his mental awareness a little closer around himself and deliberately avoided Hank's mind. "But if you know the plan, you should know that Apocalypse doesn't have to--"

Charles didn't finish his sentence because Erik entered Cerebro at that moment, wearing his helmet. Charles eyes got wide. 

"What the hell--" he started, but Erik cut him off. 

"I found my helmet," he said simply. Erik moved his gaze to Hank. "I heard what you said about having Apocalypse here, and I think that's a good idea. As soon as Apocalypse confirms that humanity is on its knees, I will kill him immediately. Unless you'd rather do it...?" Erik turns his cool, distant gaze to Charles.

Charles needed a break. "I can't be around you right now. Get out."

Hank looked anxiously at Erik. "Charles, we need Erik," he murmured to the professor, who was glaring at Erik. Hank was careful to keep a very naughty image in his mind, not too close to the surface, but there regardless. "I need him to help me change Cerebro back. Jean is powerful but unfocused--"

Charles gave Hank a look of absolute betrayal, and left the room. Hank closed his eyes and sighed, keeping his naughty thoughts going and trying not to think about what Charles might be feeling. 

Erik clapped him on the shoulder. "I know that was tough," he said sympathetically. 

Hank shrugged off his hand, bitterly. "We need to get started."

********  
The night was long and brutal for all the people working in Cerebro, which included everyone currently at the mansion except for Kurt and Charles. Hank discovered that Scott’s ability to shoot energy out of his eyes could be used to weld metal sheets and wire connections quickly and easily, so that saved some time. Regardless, Hank and Erik found themselves still working when the teenagers all left, exhausted, around 1:00am. 

A few hours later, around 3:00 in the morning, Hank frowned and beckoned Erik to come over to him, under Cerebro’s walkway. Erik was still wearing the helmet, which had long since become extremely uncomfortable, but he knew how to tolerate discomfort. 

“What is it?” Erik asked. 

Hank pointed out a chunk of wiring that meant nothing to Erik. “Do you see this?”

Erik looked blankly where Hank was pointing. 

Hank realized that Erik’s exhaustion was interfering with his ability to follow complex systems, so he tried to make his explanation as simple as possible. “Uhh...okay, in a nutshell, there is no way to make the system work the way you requested and not risk harm to Charles.”

That woke Erik up a bit. “What kind of harm?”

“Well…” Hank tried to put it as simply as possible, “The basic setting, the one for reaching out to human minds, is safe. But the other setting - I had to take the overload restrictor off, and--” Hank sighed. “Basically if Charles tries to hold Cerebro psychically captive for too long, he may entirely burn out his own mind and power, or potentially even kill himself.” 

Erik contemplated this for a few moments. “How long is too long?” 

Hank shook his head. “It’s hard to say. Somewhere between 5 and 10 minutes, I guess.”

Erik took a deep breath. “Ok, that’s enough time for me to explain that to him if we do use Plan B.” Erik looked at Hank. “There is no way to make that time period a little longer?”

Hank shook his head. “I’ve been working on only this for the past two hours.”

"It'll have to do," Erik said. “Let’s wrap up and go to bed.”

It took an hour to do that, and Erik almost forgot and removed the helmet before he went to sleep, but caught himself just in time. He had terrible dreams, dreams of being at Jean’s house and seeing Charles disintegrated in front of his eyes before he was wakened by a blue mutant sitting on his chest at about 7:00am. 

“Kurt…” he groaned.

Kurt looked at him curiously. “Why do you not sleep with boyfriend, uncle?” he asked in English.

“He told you...he’s not my boyfriend.” Erik sat up and put his hands on his face, and was reminded immediately that he was still wearing the helmet. 

Kurt frowned and lithely leaped to the windowsill. “But yesterday you said he was your boyfriend.”

“I said _Mein Freund_ ,” Erik squinted at Kurt. He needed so many more hours of sleep. “My friend.”

Kurt teleported to the other side of the room. “Same as boyfriend _auf Deutsch_ ,”

Erik knew that, and he also knew that he had deliberately said something that he'd hoped Kurt would find titillating so he would agree quickly, and it had worked.

"What was the surprise?"

Erik tapped the helmet. "My new hat."

Kurt looked skeptical. "He didn't seem to like it."

"I didn't say it was the nice kind of surprise," Erik muttered, wondering how to get out of this conversation.

“So if he is not your boyfriend…” Kurt teleported again and now was sitting on Erik’s lap, facing him.

Erik realized the situation required a little more delicacy that he usually had to employ at 7:00 in the morning. _Ok, you were right,_ he sent to Charles ruefully and then felt a pang when he realized Charles couldn’t hear him.

“Kurt,” Erik said carefully to the young man and took his hand, looked at the uniqueness of that three-digit appendage while he spoke. “Although my relationship status with your uncle Charles may be...complicated, I really do want you to think of me as your uncle as well. If nothing else, I have known your mother a very long time, and foremost in my mind today is her safety.” Erik looked up at Kurt then, who rematerialized on the ceiling with a pop-whoosh. 

Kurt shrugged, pushing aside the pinch of rejection. “I just wanted to have some fun. But I understand.” He popped and disappeared from the room.

Erik groaned and lay back on the bed for a moment before reluctantly getting up and continuing his day.

*************  
Apocalypse moved on to Boston after leaving the destroyed deli in New York, and the four horsemen were exhausted. They had been rampaging all night long, with barely any higher functions left. Apocalypse finally noticed when he targeted five-year-old twins and didn’t get so much as a raised eyebrow from the emotionally and physically burnt-out mutants. 

“Oh snap out of it!” He snarled. His mild-mannered facade began warping and changing. “I want to get out of this interminable life and you have to help me do it!"

“ _We’re_ not omnipotent.” Alex spoke up. “We’re exhausted, tired and hungry. If you gave us a few hours to rest it would make a big difference.”

“And what am I expected to do in that time, just be bored?” Apocalypse demanded, huge misshapen face now leering at him. 

Alex decided on honesty. “I don’t care.” 

Apocalypse then felt something tugging at his consciousness which promised to be a welcome reprieve from the hideous boredom that was enveloping him. “Oh!” he said delightedly, and as an afterthought, frowned at Alex. “All right, take a few hours off,” he said with disgust. “Don’t leave the rooftop.”

Alex was about to ask what rooftop when all four horsemen were bodily lifted into the air and deposited unceremoniously on the rooftop of the tallest nearby building. They landed hard, but nobody was seriously injured, and they all just lay there like dead fish, resting, waiting for their master to call them again and wondering if they would ever escape alive. 

*************

Erik thought he ought not to walk by Charles’ room on his way to breakfast, but he was too exhausted to have the self-control to resist. Charles was just outside, apparently waiting for him, leaning against the door.

“I hate that helmet,” Charles said quietly when he saw Erik. “I should have destroyed it.”

Erik stopped and faced him. Charles wasn’t tall enough to remove it by force or Erik was sure he would have. “Why didn’t you?”

Charles glanced away. “Sometimes I needed the quiet.”

Erik nodded, and boldly stepped forward and took Charles’ hands in his. “Charles, I know this will be hard for you to hear, but I need you to trust me right now.” 

Charles yanked his hands back as he started to try and find words for how unfair that was. Erik knew he was reaching out telepathically, just by instinct, and it hurt Erik to deny him that. 

“You, Charles,” he said, desperately searching Charles’ eyes, “are not the only telepath in this situation. Please, remember what I showed you of myself on the plane, and please trust that I would never hurt you.” The last few words came out a whisper as Erik’s emotion rose in his own throat. 

Charles put his palms on his eyes. He took a deep breath, and then almost imperceptibly, nodded. Erik reached for him, just needing to touch him again, but Charles slid against the wall, away from him, before he walked away.

************  
Erik outlined a very basic plan over breakfast to Kurt and Scott, the two people he'd decided to take to extract Apocalypse as they had the most useful talents he was aware of as far as the adults went (nevermind that the two young men he was talking to were barely adults themselves).

"The primary objective of this mission is to get Apocalypse here and directly into Cerebro," Erik began. "According to Charles, the horsemen can speak as themselves, but their movements are controlled by Apocalypse. It's possible this could change at any time, so the three of us should stick close together in case Kurt needs to teleport us out of there."

Erik glanced up at Kurt. "Do you have to be touching someone to teleport with them?" 

Kurt nodded. "But it can be a connection through another person. We could be a chain," he explained.

Erik nodded. "Like Azazel. That's what I thought."

Kurt seemed surprised that he knew Azazel, and resolved to ask him about it at another time. 

"If at any point you get the opportunity to teleport back here while you are connected with both of us and Apocalypse, do it," Erik directed Kurt. "Okay?"

"And Scott - do you have a, uh, stun setting?" 

Scott looked offended. "It all tends to be pretty destructive, but I can try."

"Well, that's fine, it's just that we don't want to see any of the horsemen hurt..." Erik hesitated, then added, "Well, you could hurt Logan a little bit."

Charles entered the kitchen and looked at the men talking. He folded his arms. "I hope you don't think you are going to get him without me."

"Charles," Erik said patiently, "You need to be here hooked up to Cerebro so that we can move things along as quickly as possible once Apocalypse arrives."

"I think it might be more important to explain to him how I am going to bring about our mutual goals. I doubt fighting will even be necessary." Charles was calm and persuasive. "Besides - how are you going to find them without me?"

Scott and Kurt looked at Erik. 

"Charles, you are, as far as I know, the world's most powerful telepath. Can't you find and explain your idea to him from here with Cerebro?"

Scott and Kurt's heads swivelled to look at Charles.

"Not if you go in with guns blazing!"

Both the older men were glaring at each other stubbornly. 

"You two!" An exasperated Hank entered the kitchen from where he'd been listening in the hallway. "This is literally the same argument you always have. Both approaches have their merits. Can't you, take turns, or something?" Then, just to be snarky, he projected to Charles a mental image of Charles and Erik struggling for dominance in a sexual situation. 

"Fine!" Charles snapped, backing down, his cheeks flushing. "I will be here, in Cerebro. Give me a few minutes. Kurt, if you realize you need me, please pop back, I will be ready." Charles left the room. Hank mouthed "You're welcome" to Erik and the two younger men, who were visibly pleased that they got to go into battle after all.

Five minutes later, after Scott confirmed that the Professor was ready and had transmitted the enemy's location to Kurt mentally, Erik said, "Ok, on three...One, two..."

The triple pop came on two.

**************  
Erik found leaping into a combat situation a second earlier than expected was somewhat disorienting. They were on a rooftop, and although they could see the horsemen spread out all around them, Apocalypse was not visible. "Are you all okay?" Erik said with concern. They looked like they were unconscious, or...sleeping? _Please let them not be dead,_ he wished fervently when he saw Logan groan and sit-up. Scott promptly blasted him.

"Oww, what the fuck?" Logan complained. "Who the hell are you? Why would you do that?" His shoulder looked badly burned, but it looked like it was rapidly healing.

"I was told you were the only viable target," Scott replied. "Aren't you supposed to be attacking me?"

"Well, I guess I should thank you for giving me a reason to!" Logan snarled.

Erik was pacing and realized he only counted three people. "Peter?" he said, worry straining in his voice. A moment later he felt like he'd gotten hit by a truck and he was bowled over on the ground. 

"Sorry, Dad," Peter said, sounding genuinely contrite. "I can't disobey a direct order, even if I want to. If you get up I'll do it again."

Erik shook the fog from his brain and tried to stand. Sure enough, a silver blur came at him except that a blue whoosh got in the way and then neither was there, and then Kurt was back, looking pleased with himself. Erik saw a body falling from high up above them and his heart leaped to his throat. "No!" He flew up as fast as he could and caught up with Peter, falling alongside him, not sure if he would attack if Erik grabbed him.

Fortunately, his son was smart. "Metal. Around my legs," he yelled.

Oh. Of course. Erik reached for the nearest metal, which happened to be a bed frame someone had discarded on the roof. He molded it around the falling Peter's leg and arms too, for good measure, then slowed the young man's descent until he landed gently on the roof.

Kurt popped in nearby as he landed. "Sorry," he said, sincerely.

"Forgiven," Erik responded, looking for the next threat. _Where the hell was Apocalypse?_ "Scott," he yelled, not seeing the young man, "Ask Charles where Apocalypse is!" 

Scott was in fact defending himself from an annoyed Logan, while Alex yelled at both of them to cut it out. 

Logan lunged at Scott with his claws out right before Scott blasted the roof of the building under his feet. A hole appeared, which Logan narrowly avoided. 

"Is that all you got, Cyclops?" Logan taunted. 

"Cyclops?" Scott responded, enraged. 

Erik shrugged. They seemed well enough matched for now.

He looked around and saw Alex, lying on his back, and not moving except for his head. Despite apparently not being able to move he was quite vocal, shouting warnings to both Logan and Scott so they wouldn't accidentally kill each other. "Are you hurt?" Erik asked Alex, keeping his eyes open for any other--

"Your 7 o'clock," Alex shouted to him.

Erik looked down at Alex, puzzled, when one hundred and forty pounds of blue muscle hit him near his left kidney. He grunted and somersaulted forward, popping back up to his feet.

"Hiya, Erik," Mystique was grinning at him. "Sorry about that. A little bit." She lunged forward with a head butt, which Erik narrowly managed to avoid. He looked around for some more scrap metal, but the closest metal he could feel aside from what was wrapped around Peter was in the building below him--

Ouch! He saw stars as one of Mystique's kicks caught him square in the right temple.

"Can you please stop?" Erik snapped.

"Not really," she huffed. "Peter was doing pretty good at getting in the way, but you took him out of commission." She did a backflip and tried to get Erik in a scissor hold. "Why did you want him at the mansion, anyway?"

"Because he's my son!" Erik cried out, ducking to avoid another roundhouse kick. He couldn't resist another dig. "Oh, and I met yours." She paused just long enough that he could grab her from behind with her arm twisted up.

"What are you talking about?" She gasped, freeing herself from the hold and doing a forward flip away. A moment later the young man in question appeared in between the two of them. 

"Hi Mom!" Kurt waved cheerfully to Mystique and then grabbed Erik's hand and they popped back to the mansion. 

Erik fell on the floor of Cerebro in a heap, panting heavily. Charles stood over him wearing his Cerebro headgear and smirking. "Have fun?" he said, with raised eyebrows. 

"Lab...rat..." panted Erik, slowly rising to his feet. Scott was here too, looking like he'd just gotten started fighting and was loathe to quit. 

"Would you like to be debriefed, Erik?" Charles asked, in a silky and sarcastic voice. "Everyone here not wearing a telepath-blocking helmet already knows what's going on, of course."

Erik stood with his hands on his hips, looking down and breathing less hard now. "Yes, please."

"Apocalypse and I have had a lovely telepathic conversation wherein I explained to him my plan to literally bring humanity to its knees using Cerebro, and he agreed that would meet the requirements of his prophecy." Charles looked hard at Erik. "No need to fight at all." He looked insufferably smug.

Erik nodded. He was expecting that and it didn't change his plans in the slightest. "I'm glad to hear it." He walked a few feet away so he was by the door, taking count of who was in the room. Scott was superfluous, but Hank definitely needed to be there--

"That's all you have to say?" Charles demanded. 

"Can you please get on it with?" Erik snapped irritably. Kurt was here, that was good, but...he pressed his lips together. He wanted an excuse to bring Jean in, and Charles wasn't going to like it. And he needed metal that wasn't already a part of Cerebro. 

"Okay, Kurt," Charles began to say when Erik interrupted.

"Kurt, I need metal," Erik yelled desperately. "Please come here for a moment." 

"Get metal yourself, Erik," Charles snapped back at him. "Isn't that what you do?"

With a growl, Erik left Cerebro on his own two feet and ran to get enough metal to launch a man into space. He couldn't have explained to anyone how much metal that was, but he could feel the amount when he saw it. He beckoned all metal in the area to come to him while he ran up to the mansion looking for Jean. 

"Jean!" he yelled, rounding several corners and trailing metal appliances and fixtures like a row of demonically robotic baby ducks. He found her in the kitchen, with Storm. All the metalware in the kitchen rushed towards him and the two girls screamed. 

"What? No, it's fine, I just..." the assortment of silverware and pots and pans stopped within a few inches of his body and hovered in mid-air. Erik took a breath. "Jean, I need to ask you something very important."

"Okay," She said slowly, eying the metal menagerie. 

"I'm sure Professor X asked you to stay outside Cerebro, and I don't want you to disobey him, but I want you close enough to hear and see what's going on, do you understand me?"

The red-haired teenager thought a moment. "Do you mean see, or _see_?" She pointed to her eyes for the first word and her temple for the second.

Erik lowered himself to her level, eye to eye, and tapped her temple. "See." She nodded, solemnly.

"As close as you can though, ok?" He yelled over his shoulder, and got back down to Cerebro as quickly as possible, the metal trailing him. 

He burst in through the door to Cerebro. Nobody had moved since he had left, jaws open. "What did I miss?" he asked. 

"Ahh...we were waiting for you," Charles replied, confused by Erik's urgency. "Good lord, are you hiding insanity from me in that helmet?"

Erik looked at him. "Maybe." He abruptly turned to Scott. "Scott, Storm needs help, will you please go to her?" Scott looked alarmed and left immediately. 

"What's wrong with Storm?" Charles asked, also alarmed.

Erik assumed the position he'd picked, by the door, his assortment of metal floating around him. He was surprised by the question. "What? Nothing. She's fine. I just wanted Scott out of here."

Charles looked at him like he was insane. Hank smothered a smile. 

"Are you quite ready?" Charles asked Erik, with exaggerated courtesy.

He nodded, grimly.

Charles turned to face into the round room and spoke. "Okay, Kurt, bring him here."

Erik hastily realized that there was nowhere on the narrow walkway for Apocalypse to stand that wasn't between him and Charles.

"Wait!" he yelped, and quickly fashioned a crude metal platform that he floated out in front of Charles. "Put him on that, please, Kurt."

"Erik..."

"Now, Charles. Really."

"Kurt?"

Kurt rolled his eyes and popped out of the room. He was back in a whoosh with the nondescript man, plopped him unceremoniously on the hastily-constructed floating metal platform in front of Charles, then Kurt popped out again and rematerialized next to Erik. 

"Oh! Well, hello, this is unnecessary," Apocalypse smiled and levitated off the platform. 

Erik sighed. Already off to a bad start. Well, he could keep the metal close, anyway. He assigned a part of his mind the task of keeping the metal platform no more than 12 inches under Apocalypse's floating feet.

"Hello, Apocalypse. I'm so glad we could find a mutually agreeable solution to our problem," Charles almost pleasantly greeted the _mass-murderer of mutant children._ Erik gritted his teeth. 

"Oh, I'm looking forward to it!" The little man actually rubbed his hands together and chortled with glee. 

"Very well. I will begin." Charles closed his eyes. It took a few minutes to gather the minds and wills of the entire human race, apparently. Erik idly wondered if the horsemen were nearby, or still on the roof in Boston. He remember that had left Peter encased in metal, and hoped he was okay.

Charles' eyes were closed now, and his forehead furrowed. "Ahh..." he clutched his temple. "Oh, I'm so sorry," he said softly, and tears began running freely down his face, and then he was sobbing, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." Apocalypse was watching Charles like a starving man watches food being eaten. Erik also watched, detachedly. He didn't like to see Charles unhappy, but it was only humans being affected, after all. He was more interested in keeping his eye on Apocalypse. 

Charles started to lose his balance and Kurt looked at Erik with concern on his face. Erik motioned Kurt to attend to Charles. Kurt shot him an accusing look as he popped off and rematerialized next to Charles and helped him stand. 

Finally, leaning heavily on Kurt, Charles sobbed, "It's done."

Apocalypse looked vaguely confused, with a downturned mouth. "Nobody in this room is on their knees."

"We're not human," Erik muttered. 

Apocalypse look startled and then laughed. "Oh, loopholes! Well, who am I to argue with that?" He floated towards Charles and reached for the Cerebro headgear and said, "Now, this device--"

"Not negotiable," Erik snapped. He used his power to keep the headgear firmly in place on Charles.

Apocalypse looked at Erik with an unpleasant look on his face. "Charles, you are a decent sort," he said. "But your dog needs to go to obedience school." Erik felt himself being pushed downward by unseen hands. He gritted his teeth and decided to take it, reluctantly allowing himself to be forced to his knees. If eight billion humans could go through this, it wouldn't kill him.

Having caught Apocalypse's eye, Erik remained his focus. "Interesting," he said. Erik used his power to keep the helmet firmly on his head, and wasn't surprised when he felt his whole body lifting as Apocalypse tried to pull it off his head. Apocalypse clucked. "I'm just trying to see who you are," he pouted. 

"I'm the man who's going to kill you," Erik said, looking him straight in the eye.

"Oh!" Apocalypse paused for a moment, then clapped his hands. "Almost forgot! Yes, well, we can get to that as soon as the last part of the prophecy is fulfilled."

"Last part of the prophecy?" An emotionally drained Charles whispered.

"Well, yes." Apocalypse turned to Charles. "Oh, did I forget to mention? The last part of the prophecy is that my four horsemen will die before me. In fact, they are flying to us now, to kill or be killed."

There was a shocked silence in the room before Erik yelled, "Hank, now!"

Hank flipped a switch underneath the Cerebro walkway and immediately a deafening keening filled the air. Charles arched his back and screamed. Apocalypse landed heavily on the little metal platform. 

"What is happening, Hank?!" Erik saw Charles' mouth moving, but could not hear a syllable over the horrendous sound. He saw Charles struggling to remove the Cerebro headgear, and Erik was glad he had assigned a part of his consciousness to keeping that firmly on Charles' head earlier. Erik hoped Hank could answer Charles mentally, but he saw Apocalypse struggling and realized that he needed to explain to Charles what was happening, and quickly. He yelled Charles' name as loud as he could and could not even hear his own voice. 

Fear pierced his chest as Erik realized that Charles didn't know that he may have as few as five minutes before he lost his power, or worse his life.

Erik gritted his teeth and took off the helmet. 

Charles recognized his mind immediately and Erik felt Charles' emotions rushing at him: relief, anger, confusion, fear, and a string of obscenities.

_Charles, calm your mind_

Erik could feel Charles ruefully recognizing his own words and heeding them. Erik did his best to send soothing energy and continued. _Please listen carefully, Charles. I asked Hank to keep both settings of Cerebro. You are holding Apocalypse and his powers captive with your mind. Please focus on that._ The keening still filled the air, louder if possible.

Erik kept his eye on Apocalypse and was gratified to see him stop struggling and go slack. _Good. Now I will do my part._ Erik sent all his metal towards Apocalypse, wrapping it around him and not caring if some of it pierced his skin until he saw Charles wince - oh, god, he was going to feel everything, just when he held Shaw captive.

_It's all right, my friend. I can handle it._

Nevertheless, Erik was a little more careful until he remembered the reason he had been hurrying. _Charles! You only have a few minutes before this will burn you out!_ Erik mentally pushed to Charles his conversation with Hank about how Charles would be risking his power and eventually his life if he held Apocalypse captive for longer than 5 to 10 minutes.

Erik felt Charles' shock. _You could have started with that,_ Charles’ voice said accusingly in his mind.

Erik finished wrapping Apocalypse in metal and realized that he needed Charles' help for the next step of his plan. _Charles, I need Kurt to teleport me and Apocalypse outside of Cerebro. Can you tell Kurt? It's too loud to talk in here._

Erik did not feel a response from Charles. _Charles?_

Nothing.

Erik started to feel panic rising in him, and he started to head towards Kurt, who was now curled up with his hands over his ears at Charles' feet, when he suddenly couldn't move.

_Charles??_

_I can't let the horsemen die, Erik._

_They won't! Let go of me and I will take care of Apocalypse!_

_His prophecy - he won't allow it -_

_Do you remember what I told you about prophecies, Charles?_ Erik could feel Charles wavering but he still couldn't move. 

_I can't risk that they might die,_ Charles mental response seemed weaker now, and Apocalypse seemed to be struggling again.

_Charles, please trust me! You will die! You have to let me go!_

Charles response was so weak as to be nearly not there, and yet he was still holding Erik firmly. Erik desperately tried to figure out how much time had passed and what Charles thought he was accomplishing before he remembered that he had one last lifeline.

_Jean!_

Erik didn't know if Jean had been following the conversation completely or if she would feel bad taking a side. He trembled with relief as he felt the helmet settle itself on his head and sent her a burst of gratitude before he realized that she wouldn't sense it. He ran to Kurt, grasped the terrified mutant's hand and gestured towards Apocalypse. Fortunately, Kurt understood what he was trying to communicate because a split second later Erik and Kurt were by Apocalypse, then the three of them were on the lawn, outside the mansion, in the blinding sun. Kurt disappeared immediately.

Apocalypse, freed of Cerebro, looked at Erik. "The horsemen are dead," said Erik flatly.

"I hope you appreciate the significance of what you are about to do," Apocalypse said to him with a smile.

Erik thought about the bodies of the children he'd seen. "Death is too good for you," he said,  
and summoning every bit of his power, launched Apocalypse at the late afternoon sun. 

Erik stood on the grass, just breathing for a moment, watching the tiny speck of the nearly omnipotent villain growing smaller and smaller until he couldn't see it anymore. Almost as an afterthought, he removed the helmet--

And heard Jean yelling for him. _There you are! The professor is very upset, he heard you tell Apocalypse that the horsemen are dead and he wants to talk to you right now, but you have to come here._

Erik was afraid to ask why Charles wasn't talking to Erik himself, because he was afraid he knew the answer. _Please send Kurt for me,_ he responded.

With a pop and a whoosh, he was back in Cerebro, and the awful noise had finally stopped. Charles had collapsed at the end of the walkway and Erik ran over to him while Kurt hung back by the door.

Charles was conscious, but barely. "Angry at you," he said with a frown to Erik. 

Erik half-laughed and half-sobbed. "That's fine." He stroked Charles' cheek for a moment. "Apocalypse is gone. I killed him. I'm sorry - well, no, I'm not."

"Horsemen," Charles murmured. 

"I lied," said Erik.

Charles smiled the tiniest smile before his brow furrowed. "Where are they?" 

Erik opened his mouth to say he didn't know when Storm's scream tore through the house. 

"Kurt, can you take us to Storm-" the sentence had barely left his mouth when he and Charles had joined her on the front porch. The white-haired teenager was staring up at four dots flying, no, falling toward the mansion. 

Erik's strategic mind snapped to attention. "Storm, fly up and get Alex. Jean, stop Mystique with your power. I will get Logan and Peter."

Desperately hoping Peter still had metal around his legs, Erik reached out to feel - there was Adamantium, that was Logan, and Peter - He almost couldn't feel it, and then suddenly he did. He levitated straight up, focused on feeling those metals and slowing them down, slow, slow, slow...

Storm swirled straight up and became and a blur with white hair. She went quite high and then found Alex, but he was too big for her to catch, and now she was tumbling too--

Erik noticed something nagging at his consciousness and realized it was Jean asking who was Mystique and what did she look like. _Help Storm!_ he thought at Jean and launched upward to intercept Mystique himself. He saw her then, not a bit of metal on her which he cursed for a moment and then he matched falling velocity with her and wrapped his arms around her and slowed her down with him, all the while keeping track of Peter and and Logan as well. In fact, now all horsemen except Alex were hovering about 20 feet off the ground in front of the mansion, and Erik had to face for the first time that they all appeared completely non-responsive. 

_Jean, how it is going with Alex?_

_I got 'em!_ she responded triumphantly, and Erik saw Alex and Storm also floating down and gently touching down at nearly the same time the other three horsemen did. The limp bodies lay on the grass and Erik feared the worst.

_WAKE UP!_

Erik nearly jumped out of his skin, afraid that Apocalypse was back, but no, that was little Jean giving the loud telepathic order. All the horsemen's eyes snapped open and Charles moaned. 

Erik rushed over to Peter. "Hey, Dad," Peter said weakly. "Can I use my legs again?"

"Of course," Erik hastily removed the metal and returned Peter's freedom of movement, then gave him an awkward hug. "I'm glad - I was worried," he brokenly admitted into Peter's silvery hair.

"Aw, hey, I'm fine - well, actually I'm a little traumatized, but I'll get over it." Peter ducked his head as Erik grinned at his son and went to update Charles. He noted that the other horsemen all seemed to be waking up as themselves with freedom of movement and speech. 

"Charles, they are all okay," he whispered to his friend.

"Raven?" Charles croaked. "Alex?" 

"Yes, and Logan and Peter. They are all alive, and fine."

Charles nodded and his head fell to the side. Erik motioned for Kurt's help and teleported to Charles' bedroom where Erik put Charles to bed. He thought he would have Hank check him out tomorrow to see if his abilities had been permanently affected, but for now, he just wanted to let Charles sleep.


	6. Six (final)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Apocalypse taken care of, there are still a few loose ends that our heroes have to wrap up.

The day after Apocalypse had been defeated, Storm decided, they needed to have a service for the lost children. She had obviously spent quite a bit of time making a banner with the first name of each child underneath a picture of his or her face, and Jean and Scott helped her put it on the west exterior wall of the mansion. They had the service in the west garden, and between Alex, Hank, Charles, and Storm, they made sure each one of them had a statement or an anecdote about each child to tell the gathered mutants. 

However, everyone hesitated when they got to the last name and face on the banner - Sam. Sam had been a new addition to the school; in fact, he had only been there about a week before the accident. Nobody had spent a lot of time with him. There was an awkward pause until Logan cleared his throat and stepped forward. Everyone looked at him with surprise.

"I knew Sam," he said gruffly. "Well, we met, and had a conversation. He was, uh, trying to give up smoking, and wanted to move to New York because his parents called him a freak. I told him about this place." Logan paused. "He could move trees." Another pause, then even quieter: "He seemed like a good kid."

Charles put his hand on Logan's shoulder. "Thank you, Logan." He raised his voice so everyone else could hear him. "There are refreshments on the south lawn; please help yourselves."

Charles hung back a bit behind the crowd as everyone headed for the south lawn. Despite the solemnity of the ceremony, there was something uplifting to be surrounded by both his old and new friends. To be amongst his own kind, to be able to walk again, to feel the sun on his bald head - well, he almost felt - happy. He surveyed the group and heard the happy mental babble of a party; he saw Erik talking to a very animated Peter; he saw Kurt and Raven talking, hugging, crying as they sorted out almost ten year's worth of miscommunication. Hank, chatting with Alex and not taking his eyes off of Raven; Jean and Storm, whispering and giggling about Scott, who was showing off by - blasting rocks? _That will make a mess,_ Charles thought, resigned to dealing with it later.

Logan walked up to Charles. "Hiya, X." 

Charles greeted Logan with a warm smile. "Logan. It has been wonderful seeing you again."

Logan grimaced. "Well, that last time wasn't exactly me - but you know all about that, right?"

Charles nodded with a smile and tapped his temple. 

"So, I, uh..." Logan stood next to Charles, also gazing at the group. Charles felt his gaze catch Jean and sensed a jumble of confusing feelings from stocky man next to him. "I like it here, Professor, I really do. But I feel like this isn't the right time. I feel like this is home, but, I need to not be at home right now." He looked at Charles with a perplexed expression. "Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

Charles smiled and nodded. "Indeed. Perhaps even better than you do." 

"Gah," said Logan. "Mind-readers." He grinned and hugged Charles goodbye. 

As Logan walked away, Charles saw that Scott had graduated to blasting the water in the pond and Alex had joined him, which rained water on the entire house and gardens. Not to be outdone, Storm was creating tiny thunderstorms with lightning, and a few small trees had already been hit. 

"Mutant parties are only slightly less dangerous than mutant battles," Charles heard, and turned to see Erik walking towards him and chuckling. Erik had borrowed some of Hank's clothes since he had been wearing his for days, so he was wearing a button-down, Hawaiian print, short-sleeved shirt that was too big for him. Charles couldn't help smirking at his appearance, and Erik opened his arms to show the shirt with a smile before they both had to laugh. 

"Is everything okay with your..." Erik waggled his fingers at Charles in a gesture he'd seen Charles use before with question in his eyes.

Charles laughed at Erik using that gesture. "Most of it's back today. Full recovery expected."

Erik nodded. "I'm pleased to hear that." He saw how happy Charles was today, and wanted that for Charles everyday. "I owe you an apology for misleading you yesterday." 

Charles waved it away. "Oh, hindsight is twenty-twenty. In retrospect I understand why you did what you did, and," he sighed, "you were right to wear your stupid helmet, because I would have read the truth in your mind and Apocalypse would have read it in mine." He looked at Erik, a touch of chagrin on his face still. "I regret if I said anything hurtful to you because of it."

Erik shook his head. "I just want you to know that I didn't like deceiving you."

"Understood, friend. In fact, I have something important to tell you myself."

Erik looked at Charles and tried not to hold his breath in expectation of whatever Charles wanted to say to him. Charles hesitated a split second and then continued. "You rescued me, and Storm, from that bus. You were a crucial part of defeating Apocalypse, and - I haven't thanked you for any of that." Charles proffered a hand towards Erik, to shake. "Please accept my heartfelt gratitude for your assistance and leadership. I appreciate it more than I can put into words, and I hope you can forgive that it took me this long to articulate any of it."

Bemused, Erik accepted the hand and shook it. Charles was being quite sincere. "That's - not necessary," he murmured, feeling disappointed in a way he couldn't quite acknowledge. 

"Nevertheless, I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't tell you that before you leave," Charles said with a smile. His expression got more serious. "Also, I hope that we can consider ourselves friends again, because that would mean a great deal to me."

Erik held Charles' eye with such a confusing mix of feelings in his mind that he was sure even if Charles were reading his mind he wouldn't be giving anything away - not that he had much of anything to hide anymore. He'd put his cards on the table on the plane. Erik gave Charles an only-slightly-pained smile and nod. Charles clapped him on the shoulder with pleasure as Hank walked up.

Hank grinned at both of them. "Hi, Erik. Nice to see you've finally developed a fashion sense." He turned to Charles before Erik could respond and said, "Could we get the plane back from Germany now? Kurt feels some urgency about it."

"Oh, well, I don't see why not." With one last smile at Erik, Charles and Hank starting walking towards Kurt and Raven.  
**************

Getting back to Kurt's trailer in Germany happened instantaneously, of course. It was only once Hank and Charles were in the plane, both sitting in the cockpit and preparing for take-off, that it occurred to Charles to ask a question. 

"Why did you want me to come with you to get the plane, Hank?"

Hank shrugged. "It's a long flight for one person."

Charles frowned and nodded. "I just would have thought you would have asked Raven if she would go with you." He looked at Hank. "You do seem to, ah, think about her a lot." 

Hank gave Charles a very amused look. "You know, I do that deliberately."

"Of course I know that," Charles replied with a chuckle. "After twenty years, you don't think I've noticed your way of asking me to mind my own business?"

They both had a good laugh about it. And then grew silent, each man in his own thoughts. After a few moments, Hank asked Charles, "So, are you and Erik - good? Together again?"

Charles considered the question. "Good? Yes, I think so; better than we've been in many years. Together? Well..." He trailed off and looked at Hank. "I'm not sure I take your meaning."

"Together? You know, dating. Like you used to be."

Charles closed his eyes and shook his head in confusion. "Dating? Hank, Erik and I were never 'dating'." 

Hank rolled his eyes. "Okay, if you don't want to call it dating, but you know what I mean."

"I really don't." Charles frowned at Hank. "Erik and I have only ever been friends - well, except when we weren't."

Hank seemed legitimately surprised. "You mean you and Erik never - "

Charles shook his head, feeling his cheeks beginning to redden. "No, Hank."

"Well, damn." Hank should his head ruefully. "You should know Logan just lost a bet with Alex. Logan insisted that you and Erik were, in his words, 'bumping uglies'."

Despite Charles discomfort at what his colleagues might be thinking of him, Charles had to laugh at his choice of words. "and you, Hank, you bet with Logan?"

Hank shrugged. "He's gotten a better glimpse of the future than any of the rest of us."

"Of _A_ future," Charles corrected him. "Of many possible futures."

Hank glanced at him. "So you admit it's a possible future."

Charles rubbed his forehead. "Jesus, Hank..."

"I actually thought that on the plane ride out here you and Erik would have..."

"Hank!" Charles gasped. This was partly in response to the image in Hank's head.

Hank smirked.

"I -" Charles felt his resolve crumbling. "Dammit." He looked out the window. "I haven't been completely honest with - well, anyone."

Hank glanced at him. "So you and Erik are..."

Charles shook his head. "No, Erik and I have never - anything. But, he, we - wanted to." He could feel his cheeks burning and wasn't sure if this confession was a good idea. "I - declined, and I let him believe it's because I don't want to be with a man." Charles wished he had a drink in his hand. "I used to think that was true, but meeting Kurt...it changed my perspective. I realized I was being honest when I told Kurt 'I am like you'. I told myself that I meant it as a mutant, but..." he trailed off. "Regardless, that's not why I can't be with Erik."

"It's not?" Hank looked at him. "Is it because you haven't forgiven him?" 

Charles shook his head. "No! I just - know Erik. He's always going to leave. And I can't allow myself to do - that - with someone who won't be there." Charles felt tears come to his eyes and he roughly brushed them away.

Hank considered. "He did a lot for you this week."

"He did a lot for _mutants_ this week."

Hank exhaled. "I'm not Erik's champion. I'm not. The man is certainly flawed. But I see how he looks at you, and I can't believe that you - you, of all people! - would doubt that he cares about you a lot."

Charles didn't say anything for a while. "I saw the future Logan's from."

Hank looked at him in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"I told you I spoke with an older version of myself, but I didn't tell you a few things. One of those is that Erik was there, older, standing behind me, the older-me, and I knew from his mind that they were together." Charles swallowed. "It's been very hard to forget that, especially since Erik has recently been so - so -" words failed him and he just got to his point. "I'm very much in love with him," he said finally, looking up, trying to keep tears from falling. "I have never told anyone that."

"You don't think he feels the same?"

"I think he - has other priorities." Charles swallowed. "We have philosophical differences. We don't see eye to eye."

Hank gave him a look that clearly said _How is that different from any other couple?_ (Some telepathy might have been involved).

"Probably the only reason we could be together in that version of the future was because the world had gone to hell." Hank did not respond, but looked skeptical.

"He will leave. He always leaves."

The words hung in the air. 

Charles looked at the window. "We've already said our goodbyes."

Charles said this with such a sad finality that Hank realized it was probably time to change the subject.

"Well, there's something else I wanted to talk with you about, as well. I have been giving this a lot of thought, and I want to try to help mutants using other channels. I've been applying for some positions in D.C., and in a week," he took a breath, "I start working as an aide for Senator Moynihan."

Charles turned to Hank in delight. "Hank, that is wonderful! I knew you were studying diplomacy, but that is absolutely wonderful news." He beamed. 

"So, I'll be moving out of the mansion..." Hank peeked at Charles to see his reaction to that.

Charles looked back ruefully. "Hank, I'm happy that you are pursuing your own path! Do what you have to do. You always have a place at the school, or in my home, if you'd like to come back, but I don't expect you to stay forever."

"It's just - you seem to have abandonment issues, so...I thought you might be upset."

Charles puffed air out his nostrils. "I can't say I won't miss you. And honestly, if you had sprung this on me a few years ago I might have reacted very differently. That's why - " he looked at Hank guiltily - "That's why I refused the serum you developed when you first proposed it."

Hank frowned, confused. "You mean - you didn't actually care if you went bald?"

Charles scratched his chin. "I saw the future. I knew I would be bald."

Hank turned to Charles in shock. "You knew? This whole time, I thought..."

"I know." Charles cut him off. He continued, quieter. "I thought there would be nothing keeping you with me if I could walk." Hearing it out loud Charles realized how bad it sounded. "I'm so sorry, Hank."

Hank waved it away. "It's all right." He looked at Charles. "Really. I wasn't ready to leave then, either." A moment later, he added, "I've asked Raven if she wants to live with me in Washington."

"Well!" Charles was surprised. "That is moving fast."

"Yeah, well, she thought so too - she said 'no thank you'. But, then she said 'you can take me out'. When she gets back from Germany; she was planning to visit with Kurt for a while." He looked at his watch. "She's probably there already."

Charles chuckled. "I'm glad for you, Hank. Proud of you. Taking chances, moving forward..." He looked at Hank and smiled. "I see big things in your future."

***********  
Charles and Hank got back very early in the morning after a long night. The sun was just coming up, but Charles felt a presence which confused him - and pleased him, if he was being honest with himself. He entered his study and saw Erik sitting in his usual chair, book in his lap, head tilted to the side, utterly asleep. He smiled at the adorableness of this for a moment before he picked up the whiskey decanter and poured himself a scotch and plopped down in his usual chair (the one that wasn't a wheelchair, of course). 

The movement awoke Erik, who squinted at Charles sleepily and then yawned. He raised an eyebrow at the scotch glass.

"It's five o'clock somewhere," Charles commented. "Anyway, it was a long couple of days."

Erik nodded and stretched. He looked at Charles and saw that Charles was looking at him and seemed puzzled. He realized that Charles expected him to have left, and he thought he was probably overstaying his welcome, and he sat up straight.

"I needed to ask you something," he began. Charles was looking at him, patiently. "I was going to ask you yesterday, but you left and then..." Erik paused and tried to find the words. "I just - I just wanted to ask you for a job."

"A job?" Charles repeated blankly. 

"Yes. I - I want to teach at your school. If you'll have me."

Charles didn't know what to say and thought probably his mouth was hanging open.

"I mean..." Erik cleared his throat. "I'm usually good at speaking; I don't know what's gotten in to me today. I know that I put you in - an uncomfortable position, on the plane, and I don't want you to think I expect anything - from you. Like that. So if that, is, a, uh, factor..." He rubbed his forehead. "Maybe you had just better take it from my mind." 

"I'd rather not," Charles said in a small voice.

Erik looked at Charles with surprise and a flash of hurt. "Oh, sorry, of course. Well, I just wanted to tell you - what you said yesterday - that I am happy to be friends, again, and that I can work with you. And I would like to." He looked up at Charles. 

"What about the mutant brotherhood?" Charles asked, slowly.

Erik looked up at the ceiling. "There is no mutant brotherhood," he said heavily. "I mean, there was, for about a year after Cuba, until I got everyone killed or captured. But since then -" he shook his head. "It's just me. Sometimes Raven will help with missions, if I ask in the right way, if she believes in the cause."

Charles frowned. "But I have seen, in your mind..."

"It's been a hard idea to let go of," Erik admitted. "I haven't been willing to admit to myself that it doesn't exist, I just told myself I needed to recruit more mutants. But honestly--" he stood up then, and began pacing. "For the past five years or so, anytime I meet a promising young mutant I keep thinking that your school would be so much better for them than anything I can offer alone. And then I send them to you." He stopped pacing and looked at Charles. "If you did want to look in my mind, you will see I am telling you the truth." 

Charles felt he couldn't breathe for a moment, and didn't know what to say. 

Erik sat down again and looked at Charles intensely. "I won't try recruit them away from you. I just - I want to be contributing to something that helps mutants, and I am never better than when I am with you." He looked up hastily. "I mean, working with you, I know you don't want me - that way."

"What way?" asked Charles softly.

"I know you don't want me, that way, or you don't want to want me, and whichever it is, I respect your wishes. I just want - what I said. But I could live somewhere else, if you - want that," he added hastily. "Or if my thoughts bother you, I could wear the helmet - or - not?"

Charles just looked at him. Erik let the silence go on until it was nearly deafening him and he suddenly occurred to Erik that he was putting this fragile friendship into jeopardy by asking something of Charles that he didn't want to do. 

But Erik really wanted it.

"Charles..." he swallowed. "If you have any doubt that I am being honest..." he touched his temple.

Charles stood up, so Erik stood up. Erik held his breath as Charles walked over to him. Charles' eyes were so blue... _No. Don't think about that,_ Erik told himself sternly.

Charles got very close to him and looked at his lips. Confusion and excitement and panic rose in Erik's mind when Charles placed a very warm, sweet kiss on his mouth.

"This is more cruel than kind," Erik whispered. "Is this some kind of test?"

Charles gazed at him with the barest smile on his face. He asked, "May I show _you_ something?" and wiggled his fingers near his temple.

Erik nodded and then almost couldn't breathe as the full weight of Charles' thoughts struck his mind. There was parts of a recent conversation with Hank, and love and wonder and lust and amazement and joy and--

Erik shook his head, overwhelmed. Tears came to his eyes as he saw Charles' blue eyes welling up as well. "I don't - understand," he choked. "I thought you didn't want to be with a man."

"I may have - misled you a bit about that," Charles said, biting his lip. "There was a bigger reason, a very cliche reason, an embarrassingly human reason..." Charles felt tears welling up as he said the thing that was the hardest to say. "I didn't want to get hurt."

Now, it was Charles who had trouble finding and saying the words. "Erik - I love you too much to be able to bear the thought of you leaving if we - started - something."

Erik was speechless as the full meaning of what Charles was saying struck him. "How could I ever--wait--you love me? I love you!" He looked at Charles again and everything crystallized. He placed a passionate, hungry kiss on Charles' mouth, and Charles reciprocated with equal passion. They kissed until they couldn't breathe and then Erik pulled a fraction of an inch away, just enough to speak.

"I'm serious about wanting to teach here," he said, searching Charles' beautiful blue eyes. 

"Only if you bury that helmet," Charles responded. 

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have really enjoyed writing this. I hope you like it too. :)


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